First Contact
by JA Baker
Summary: Everyone’s favourite blond Cylon has a series of unfortunate encounters… BSG¬Multipal
1. Birthday bash

**First Contact**

Six pulled the trigger until the gun ran dry, empting the entire clip into the back of the human woman she'd seen walking out of the bar. The Cylons had anticipated the existence of non-human biological life forms, and had planed accordingly. Still, encountering a space station filled with dozens of unknown species had been a bit unexpected.

Seeing a human had been un-nerving: the station had technology far in advance of anything the Cylons or Colonials had ever dreamed of. Infiltration would be important.

Six linked back with the communications system back on the transport that had brought her to the station, trying to establish a link back to the High Command. Something about the radiation in this part of the universe, on the very edge of Cylon-explored space, prohibited faster-than-light communications and sensors.

It also affected the transports FTL drive, making it somewhat unpredictable.

Holstering her now empty gun, Six turned her back on the dead human and started back towards the transport.

The sound of movement made her look back round, and her eyes went wide as the human stood up, seemingly unaffected by the multiple bullet wounds in her back. Six looked closer and saw metal and wires underneath the thin layer of skin: the 'human' was some form of AI never before encountered by any Cylon.

The strange AI turned to face the startled Cylon, dark eyes emanating anger. It looked at the broken glass bottle in its hand, the rich, dark liquid dripping onto the deck. It spoke in a strange language that Six was unable to translate, before reaching for something that looked like a flashlight on its belt.

Six blinked in shock as a flash of red light as followed by the loss of all feeling in her chest. She looked down to see a gaping wound in her stomach, her normally immaculate red dress torn to shreds.

Looking at the strange AI in bewilderment, Six sank to the floor, feeling her life drift away as she tried one last time to establish a connection with the High Command. She failed, and in her last seconds of life, realised that she had failed.

Rommie looked at the woman who had attacked her, and momentarily regretted shooting her: she was supposed to behave herself. But then, if Beka had wanted stubble, she shouldn't have sent a Warship Avatar to find Harper's birthday present.

Somewhat reluctantly, she activated her com-system and connected to the _Maru_.

"_Did you get it?_" Beka asked hopefully over the link.

"I got it, then some woman I've never seen before shot me. In the back!" Rommie looked at her ruined uniform, "How the hell do you get whisky out of leather?"

"_Forget about your jacket: what did you do to the bitch?_"

"I did what any self respecting Warship would do: I shot her back!"

"_Good girl, but we still need to find Harper a birthday present_."

"At the moment, he's probably going to spend his birthday putting my spine back together: it's some kind of slug-thrower, very low-tech, but loaded with HE-AP rounds."

"_Did you pick up the weapon?_"

"Yeah: I'm hardly going to leave something like that lying around where anyone could pick it up, now am I?"

"_Dylan collects unusual weapons, and I know for a fact that he's got a bottle of Harper's favourite whisky stashed away somewhere. Maybe we can arrange a trade?_"

"Not like I've got a better idea. I'm on my way back now."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The Cylon High Command waited for its agent to report back, but finally gave up when an unknown warship that called itself _The Balance of Judgment_ annihilated one of their most powerful Basestar's.

Whatever fate awaited the Colonial remnant, it was not of their concern.

It seemed like a bad idea, when ten years later a High Guard fleet arrived at the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and obliterated every last trace of the Cylon race.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Trance sat looking at her plants: history goes in circles, and no one could truly predict how things would work out next time…

**The End**


	2. All kinds of unpleasantness

**First Contact 2:  
All kinds of unpleasantness**

Six looked around the dusty planet, thankful that for once she'd forgone her regular slinky red dress. The dust was everywhere: in the air, on the building and the people, every surface was covered in it. The system was teeming with human, more than she'd ever expected to see in one place after the destruction of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.

Dozens of planets and moons had been made habitable, allowing the humans to spread like a disease over otherwise pristine worlds. Although it was well away for the rout the Colonial Remnant was taking, there was still a rink that they would find it.

Six wasn't sure if it was worth the time and effort to exterminate the humans in this system: they lacked FTL technology, but their computer technology was significantly different from either Colonial or Cylon. This would make them immune to the electronic viruses that had been so effective in the past.

Their ships thought slow, were numerous and more heavily armed than any Battlestar. A drawn-out war with them would risk losing contact with the Remnant, and that was unacceptable. Six knew that she would have to decide just how much of a threat this Alliance was before she returned to the High Command.

The market was busy, filled with sights, sounds and smells that made even the most rambunctious Colonial counterpart look tame. Street vendors thrust their wares in her face, trying to get her to buy what they had to offer. She pushed them away, still trying to assimilate the complex language that seemed to be a mixture of at least two separate dialects.

Compared to this, infiltrating the Colonial Defence mainframe had been easy.

"Walking puppet, not what she seems." A voice came from just behind Six, "Killed a little baby, made it's mother cry."

Six span round to see a young woman disappear through the crowed.

The Cylon agent immediately started after he, but the crowed made it difficult to keep up. The young woman, barely more than a girl, stepped into a dark alleyway to one side.

Ignoring a momentary feeling of foreboding, Six followed her into the shadows, intent on finding out how the stranger knew so much about her and her past. Humans were not supposed to know so much about Cylons, especially humans from uncharted worlds.

The stranger was standing at the far end of the ally, back to a high brick wall.

"Six of twelve." The young girl tilted her head to the side, "Made the little children of Kobol all fall down."

"How do you know that?" Six asked, "Who are you?"

"I see all you've done: you've been a bad little girl."

"What is your name?"

"River."

"Well, River." Six drew her gun and pointed it at the young woman, "I can't let you tell anyone else what you know."

"Time to dance." The look in River's eye suddenly changed from carefree to deadly serious.

River leapt into the air, kicking out against the wall so she moved off at an angle. She pushed away from the side of a building, reaching up to grab the support beam of a fire escape and swung round on it. Letting go, she landed like a cat on a large dumpster, then leapt instantly over Six's head, landing as soft as a snowflake.

Six could barely follow River's movements; the gun was plucked out of her hand before the Cylon could respond.

"Ain't no power in the 'verse can stop me..." River looked at Six down the length of the gun, her eyes as hard and cold as tempered steel.

Six only just had time to looked surprised before a single gunshot ended her life. This far away from Cylon space, it would be impossible for her mind, her soul, to return to her people to be reborn.

"Noisy thing: goes boom." River looked at the gun, her expression of childlike innocence returned. She sniffed it, "Smell's like Jayne…"

**The End**


	3. Legend of the Lost City

**First Contact 3:  
Legend of the Lost City**

Six looked out through the sensors of the Basestar she was commanding. The small, blue green planet the hung below them was the cause of much concern in the High Command: there was evidenced that it was the home of the fabled Thirteenth Tribe of humans.

The Cylons had long ago cracked the secret of the lost tribe when they discovered the city of Olympus on distant Kobol: the so-called gods the Colonials worshiped were nothing more than an advanced evolutionary stage of human life. Many of their secrets had been left behind when Kobol had been abandoned when its inhabitants were struck down by a terrible plague.

Olympus it self had been a giant spaceship, capable of travelling between galaxies. A Zero Point Module discovered amid the ruins of the city had enabled the Basestar to make a record braking FTL jump to this galaxy. Finding it to be full of humans, Six had decided to explore before returning to the High Command.

The exploration had raised more questions that it answered, but had finally led Six to Earth, the planet that the Colonial Remnant was so desperately searching for.

Six couldn't help but be more than a little disappointed: Earth was several hundred years behind even the Twelve Colonies, lacking any off-world colonies. Only one FTL capable spaceship worthy of the name had been encountered so far, and was busy trying to defend an area of seemingly worthless icy waist from an unknown attacker with vastly superior ships and technology.

The more advanced Cylon stealth technology aloud them to remain hidden from view as they slowly approached Earth. Six waited patiently, hoping that she'd bare whiteness to the total destruction of the Thirteenth Tribe.

Movement on the planet below caught her attention, and she looked down to see the primitive human ship move towards what appeared to be the command ship of the alien armada. Scans showed its weapons were depleted, indicating that it had to be on a suicidal mission to ram its opponent.

Noble, but ultimately a futile gesture.

A bright light burst forth from the icy wasteland the Earth ship had been defending, shooting up through the atmosphere and beyond. It passed the human ship, before blowing straight through the alien flagship.

Leaving the burning hulk behind, it split into several smaller streams, blasting the remainder of the armada to pieces. The sensors on the Basestar detected traces of the same energy fields found in Olympus amid the millions of projectiles that made up the streams.

Six felt herself physically shudder: if humans had access to working technology left behind by the Lords of Kobol, things could go very badly for her people.

An alarm went off, indicating that the Basestar was in immediate danger. Six looked round for the souse of the threat, and saw that one stream of projectiles was headed straight for the ship. Nothing she did was able to stop them, illustrating beyond ay doubt just how far behind the Lords of Kobol the Cylons were, technologically.

Records recovered from Olympus hinted that a second city, known as Atlantis, was hidden somewhere in the galaxy that was home to both the Cylons and Colonials. If the Remnant were ever to uncover it, they would have a new home and an almost impregnable base of operation to strike out from.

One last thought passed through Six's mind before the Basestar was destroyed, "Oh frack…"

**The End**


	4. The Red Dawn

**First Contact 4:  
****The Red Dawn**

Six pulled herself to her feet, doing her best to ignore the battle that was raging around her. The army she was supposed to be commanding lay in pieces around her, devastated by something she refused to believe in.

Belief in God was one thing, but there was no way she was going to believe in ghosts.

Ok, so nothing else could explain just what it was that she'd seen rip into her Centurions like they were made of paper, but she just wasn't going to believe it.

It was supposed to be an easy mission: a scout had found the legendary world of Earth (for some reason they insisted on calling it Middle Earth, something Six was a little worried about), and the Cylon High Command had dispatched a Basestar under Six's command to see if it posed a threat. True, there were humans on this world, but there were also other, unknown life forms, many of whom defied explanation.

The one who called himself Sauron had approached them, offering an alliance against the humans. Amazed by his powers, not to mention his pathological hatred of the human race, the High Command had agreed without hesitation, ordering Six to lend him the support of all the Centurions under her command.

It had started well: the humans of Earth were thousands of years behind the Colonies of Kobol, having only the most basic projectile weapons. Their armour was relatively thin, no protection from the high velocity rounds fire by the Centurions. It should have been simple.

The first battle the Centurions were to take part in was the siege of a fortified city built into the side of a mountain. Sauron's armies had led the attack, allowing the Centurions to conserve their power cells for the storming of the city itself.

Everything had been going well, until more humans had arrived, riding on horses and armed with spears and swords. Sauron's troops had broken ranks under the onslaught, almost costing them the victory. It wasn't until Six had ordered the Centurions into the fight that the tide of battle once again turned in their favour.

Then the ghosts had arrived, decimating everything in their path, until almost nothing remained.

Six looked around the field of battle: she had to get back to her ship and report to the High Command: Earth would no be an easy target…

She never saw the axe that took her head, or hear the short, human like unknown life form that exclaimed "_Fifty six!_" over her corps.

**The End**


	5. You say frack, I say frell…

**First Contact 5:  
****You say frack, I say frell…**

Six looked around the interior of the strange, living ship that she found herself upon and shudder: this was not a good start to a mission.

The Basestar she'd been commanding had been attacked by a group of humans that called themselves Peacekeepers. Their warship, a massive carrier that dwarfed anything the Cylons or Colonials had in their fleet, had been protected by a powerful energy field that had stopped their missiles dead. The computer viruses proved ineffective against the strangers, stopping the Cylons from gaining control of the ship.

Massive bio-energy rounds ripped the Basestar to pieces: Six barely had time to get to an escape pod and get clear, and event hen she had not escaped unharmed: her body had been critically injured, and without the powerful transmitter on the Basestar, it was impossible for her to transmit her soul to the High Command. The so-called Peacekeepers had moved on, ignoring the escape pod totally.

So she had preyed; hoping that God would see fit to save her.

And God had answered: a strange ship had appeared in a flash of light and detected her damaged pod and brought it onboard. Six used the last of her energy to inject the rather surprised human who had opened the pod with a neural clone of herself, in the hope that she would somehow find a way back to the High Command, and report what had happened.

The human had been rather surprised by what had happened, and had passed out for a considerable length of time. It was only after several hours sleep that he had gotten up and started walking around, interacting with the strange, unknown life forms that inhabited the ship. Six had been surprised to find that she could understand everything the aliens said: there was something that translated their native language into something the human could understand.

It had taken Six a while to assimilate everything, but she was finally getting ready to make her self felt to her unwitting host. She allowed him to catch glances of her at first: a woman in a slinky red dress, half seen out of the corner of one eye.

The human had reacted strangely at first; seeming to blame someone named Harvey for the hallucinations. Six didn't have a clue what the man was talking about, but was beginning to suspect that he was insane.

"That would be a wise assessment." A strange, menacing voice came from behind Six, "But John Crichton can be most surprising at times…"

"What the frack are you?" Six asked the pale skinned monstrosity that was stalking towards her.

"You can call me Harvey." The stranger smiled evilly, "And Crichton's brain isn't big enough for the two of us…"

Six turned to run, but found her way blocked by the demonic form. She turned gain, only to find her other escape rout blocked. Every way she looked, Harvey stood there, grinning. Six screamed, unable to find a way out: all her usual tricks failed.

"Crichton is too important to let some upstart like you threaten his existence." Harvey chuckled, "That's my job." Reaching out with one claw-like hand, he gripped the Cylon by the throat and started to slowly choke the life out of her.

Six tried to prise open the other neural clone's vice-like grip, but it proved pointless: she could already feel her mind start to fog as her brain was starved of oxygen. With the darkness starting to fill her vision, she asked God why he had abandoned her.

"There is no God." Harvey smiled as he watched the light slowly fade from the strange woman's eyes, "Only me."

"You say something, Harvey?" Crichton asked, feeling the headache he'd been suffering from suddenly disappear.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, John." Harvey smiled as he started to assimilate the information from the other clone, "This is almost as interesting as wormholes…"

"What?"

"Nothing John; just thinking out loud."

"Yeah, well, try and keep it down in there, will you?"

"By your command…"

**The End**


	6. 343 Guilty Spark

**First Contact 6:  
****343 Guilty Spark**

Six ducked down as a stream of plasma fire ripped through the air, taking out two slow moving Centurions. A hail of return fire ripped into the advancing horde, cutting down the strange, dog-like creatures at the front but bouncing off of the energy shields protecting the others.

The ground shook as a pair of massively armoured creatures charged at the Cylon defences. Bullets literally pinged off the massive shields they hunkered down and charged. Centurions foolish enough to get in the way were knocked down and crushed as the pair levelled anything in their way. A Centurion exploded as one of the two lumbering aliens pointed the huge weapon built into it right arm at the robot and fire at point blank range.

There was something about the glyphs etched into the armour of the tall aliens who apparently commanded the others was somehow familiar to Six, like she had seen it somewhere before, but couldn't place it.

It had been a simple plan: a small human Starship had been detected entering Cylon controlled space and had been attacked by the nearest Basestar. The ship had fought back with strange weapons, but for using a previously unknown faster-than-light drive to escape.

More ships had been dispatched to the area, Raiders checking system after system for hundreds of light-years in every direction. Then they had found it: the Ring World.

More unknown ships had been in orbit, and had fired on the Basestars with plasma-based weapons, only to be fought to a standstill by the superior firepower of the Cylon vessels. The battle had raged for days, allowing an entire legion of Centurions to land on the Ring World undetected.

Six had overseen the exploration of the construct, uncovering a fraction of the technology behind it: whoever had built it was centuries ahead of the Cylons and Colonials. Then the aliens had found them, and battle had been joined. Although totally fearless and highly effective, the Centurions under her command had been quickly cut down by superior numbers.

An ear-splitting boom filled the air as the last couple of Centurions fell and Six looked up to see what looked like stones falling from the sky. Flame enveloped the lower parts, spreading as retrorockets fired, slowing their decent to something more survivable.

Each pod hit the ground with enough force to drive the lower half meter into the ground. Explosive bolts fired, sending armour plated hatches flying through the air, some crushing the strange little aliens that seemed to be used as cannon-fodder by the others.

Heavily armed humans burst out of the pods and started firing on the startled aliens, cutting them down in short order. Their leader was a massive, armour clad being that carried an automatic rifle like it was a child's toy. Six watched in rapt awe as it moved with easy grace across the battlefield, stopping only to reload. While the other humans acted like hardened combat veterans, the armour-clad warrior was almost machinelike in its actions.

Crushing the life out of the last alien with its boot, the warrior turned to look at Six: its face unreadable behind its gold visor. Did it even have a face? Was it a human who had been badly hurt, and wore the armour to disguise itself? Was it a machine of somekind, built by the humans in this part of the galaxy to fight in the war against the aliens?

"Are you ok?" A human voice, defiantly male, asked, "How did you get here?"

"My ship crashed." Six slowly stood, deciding that the best lie was the half-truth, "I don't know how to thank you..."

"You don't need to thank the caveman." A strangle feminine voice came from the armour, "**I'm** the brains."

"Thank you, Cortana." The male voice replied, before the warrior turned back to Six, "This is a combat zone, no place for a civilian: I'll call for a drop-ship to pick you up..."

Something small and fast moved through the undergrowth, erupting with no warning. Six felt something land on her shoulder and wrap itself round her neck. Needle like spines pierced her skin, hunting for her central nervous system. The Cylon could feel an inhuman inelegance start to take control of her body.

"**FLOOD!**" The female voice called out in alarm, "I'm only picking up the one Infection form. Chief, there's nothing we can do for her, and we can't risk leaving the Flood at our back..."

"I understand." The Warrior pointed its gun down at the terrified Six, "I'm sorry."

The single gunshot echoed off the distant hills.

**The End**

_To help out a few people who have expressed a difficult with the crossovers, here is a list:  
__Part 1: Battlestar Galactica/Andromeda  
__Part 2: Battlestar Galactica/Firefly  
__Part 3: Battlestar Galactica/Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis  
__Part 4: Battlestar Galactica/Lord of the Rings: Return of the King  
__Part 5: Battlestar Galactica/Farscape  
__Part 6: Battlestar Galactica/Halo 2_


	7. Shark Attack!

**First Contact 7:  
****Shark Attack!**

_And this is Downlode, the city whose smile seems somewhat out of place. It's so late it's getting early, central European time, and the Cylons are about to discover what happens when you piss of the wrong people from the bad side of town..._

Earth should have been easy: its space-based defences had been complex, but easy fooled, allowing a small number of Cylons to land just outside the city that slouched across one of the continents like a malignant tumour. They had quickly built up a base of operations amid a sprawl of disused warehouses and docks on the edge of a dark, polluted sea.

Careful, so as to avoid detection, the Cylons started to explore the complex computer networks that wrapped their way around the planet and its nearby colonies. Low-powered viruses had been sent out to test defences, always keeping their origin hidden.

Six, the master hacker who had crippled the Colonial Defence mainframe with ease, immersed herself in the sea of data, spending days at a time unlinked to the system. She moved from system to system, amazed by the wealth of information so easily accessible.

Then she had encountered the one who called themselves Vlad-the-Emailer, a data-dealer with skills that rivalled any Cylon. The two of them had duelled in the depths of the information network, attacking and counter attacking at every encounter. Days had gone by, neither able to brake the deadlock that threatened the Cylon agenda.

Then Six had gotten lucky and found her opponents real name: Belinda 'Billi' Octavo.

A quick scan of the data net had provided an address, and a pair of Centurion had been dispatched to deal with the hacker. Six couldn't help but feel cheated: she would have preferred to defeat her foe in single combat, but the mission came first.

A day went by, and the Centurions failed to return from their mission, and Six had sent an entire squad to find out what had happened, this time following their progress directly. She had been shaken when a huge reptilian creature had erupted from the polluted water of the docks and devoured the Centurions with a single bight.

The third strike force was much larger, composing of most of the Centurions on planet, all armed for heavy combat. Many had fallen to the reptile, but they bought the time needed for the others to make it to the young hacker's base of operation and entered the almost deserted warehouse.

Gunfire from inside had cut into them without warning, slashing their number until only two remained. One, slightly bolder than its companion, started up a flight of stairs, only to be engulfed in a sheet of flame that almost vaporised the robot.

A pair well aimed shots dropped the last Centurion where it stood.

Six new that a counter attack would soon follow, but even she was surprised at how fast it was: a black ground car came screaming out of the night, engine whaling like a banshee. Two Centurions were smashed as the car careered through the abandoned building surrounding the Cylon base, the two men inside firing at the static defences.

Drawing her own seldom used sidearm, Six knew that she would have to face them herself. The car skidded to a halt outside the warehouse, the head of the last surviving Centurion imbedded in its radiator grill. The two human occupants stepped out.

The first was deathly pale, but sprouted flame-read hair. He was dressed in a long, black leather duster over a black suit and whit shirt with thin black tie. His hands were clad in a pair of red rubber gloves, and held a massive, dangerous looking multi-barrelled firearm. His eyes were unreadable behind a pair of black sunglasses.

His companion was much darker of completion, with raven black hair and strange, chrome eyes. The word '**FONY**' was tattooed above his left eyebrow. He was dressed in a well made and probably very expensive red silk suit with black silk shirt. Like his companion, he wore red gloves, but his looked like leather rather than rubber. Each hand held a nickel-plated handgun, the barrels still smoking.

"I don't know who you are, but you made a mistake messing with our friend Billi." The first one spat a dog-end onto the ground, "You see, we're dead-eyed lead-sowers from the banks of the Styx, and our guns are always hungry."

"Ay, lady, you gone and messed with the wrong people: we are Gun Sharks, and Billi hired us to take you out after your little run-in with Gator." The other man smiled, "Is nothing personal: just business..."

Six brought her gun up, but the two strangers faster: bullets ripped through her body, spinning her round as she fell. Face down on the cold, concrete floor, Six had just enough time to see her killers walk back to her car.

"So." The red haired one asked, "Where to now?"

"I say we go down to _Bar None_ and get a drink." His companion suggested, "This killing is thirsty business, no?"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Sinister Dexter)  
__If you don't know who Sinister and Dexter are, then shame on you._

_As for all the requests/suggestions: don't know enough about the Warhammer and Star Wars empires to do them justices, but I'm thinking of giving Buffy a go..._


	8. Gods and Monsters

**First Contact 8:  
****Gods and Monsters**

"Tell me what I want to know," Six purred into her prisoner's ear, "and I'll make it worth your while."

"So this is a standard '_sell out your friends for sex_' deal?" Xander asked, looking at her with his one good eye, "Not very original. I was expecting at least an offer of limitless power, or violent dismemberment..."

"Not my style." Six sat on the young mans lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, making sure he had a good view of her cleavage, "Just tell me where your friends get their powers from, and I'll undo the restraints and we can have some fun..."

"I somehow doubt my girlfriend would be very happy with me if I did that: she's a little jealous of other women."

"What about your eye then? I could replace it, good as new. Better, even."

"Ok, now you're being a bit more original, but it's still not enough to tempt me."

"You stupid little human." Six spat in the young man's face as she stood, "Do you want me to call my friends back in? How about I have them remove your other eye and let you go? Would you like that: spending the rest of your life blind?"

"Lady, I've been threatened by things bigger and nastier than you." Xander threw his head back and laughed, "You don't even come close to frightening me."

"I don't want to hurt you." Six cupped his face in one hand, "In fact, I quite like you."

"That steals it: you're not human."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that if my life has taught me one thing, it's that no human woman has ever been truly interested in me. Ok, there was Cordelia, but that was just a High Scholl crush..."

"And your girlfriend?"

"She's probably going to kill you."

"We'll see..." Six stood, just as a short burst of gunfire could be heard outside. Then a window suddenly shattered as the severed head of a Centurion was thrown through it. It skidded across the floor and came to a stop at Six's feet.

"_She's herrreee_." Xander smirked.

"Who?" Six asked, just before the warehouse door was ripped off of its hinges and dropped to the floor, sending up a huge cloud of dust.

A woman stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the setting sun, the broken remains of a Centurion's arm hanging from one hand. Her blue hair hung down over her shoulders, accenting the blue tint to her skin and her piercing ice-blue eyes. She was covered from head to toe in strange red arm, and radiated an aura of barely controlled aggression and murderous intent.

"Alexander." She looked at the young man tied to the chair, "I wish to do more violence."

"Strange lady, meet Illyria, my girlfriend." Xander nodded the introductions, "Illyria, meet the strange lady who kidnapped and tried to seduce me."

The former demon queen looked at the Cylon agent, her eyes narrow and hard and she slowly advanced. She stopped just inches away from Six and looked her up and down, studying her intently.

"A puppet: a facsimile of a human." Illyria tilted her head to the side, "And a crude one at that." There was a blur of movement, followed by a loud crack and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Um..." Xander looked at his girlfriend as she undid the restraints holding him to the char, "You going to keep that?"

Illyria looked at Six's severed head, and then tossed it over her shoulder: it landed on the floor next to the still twitching body.

"What did she want?" The demon asked as she led the way out of the warehouse.

"Information on you and the Slayers." Xander rubbed his wrists to get his circulation flowing properly again, "Kept saying something about it being Gods Will."

"It is the will of this god that we return to our hotel room."

"Amen to that..."

**The End**

_(Battlestar Galactica/Buffy the Vampire Slayer)_


	9. Holding out for a Hero

**First Contact 9:  
****Holding out for a Hero...**

Six looked at the main screen: the Colonial remnant had found Earth far sooner than anyone had through possible. But that didn't look like too much of a problem: the fabled thirteenth tribe was almost a millennia behind the destroyed Colonies of Kobol. In fact, the only spacecraft the Basestar had encountered so far were primitive automated probes, many no longer functioning.

Earth looked like an open target; no problem for the might of the Cylon war machine, yet Six was unusually hesitant. Something seemed wrong to her, like they weren't seeing the whole picture.

But the Cylon High Command was absolute: the final destruction of the human race was to begin at once.

An armada of Raiders was launched from the assembled Basestars, forming up on their signed flight leaders and begin their attack run on the Earth. Long-range kinetic-kill missiles struck out at the few long-range sensor satellites built by the inhabitants as the Galactic struggled to get her remaining fighters in the air as fast as possible.

It was a noble, but ultimately futile gesture: no force, Colonial or otherwise, could withstand the attack force sent against them. Cylon victory was a certainty.

Then internal sensor started to detect strange reading somewhere near the lead Basestar's command deck.

"You know," A strange voice suddenly appeared right behind Six, "some people might take this sort of shit personally."

"What?" The stunned Cylon span round and found herself face-to-face with another blond woman of similar height and build. The main difference was the clothing: while Six was dressed in her regular slinky red dress, the newcomer was wearing a white suit and a t-shit covered in some sort embalm made up of red and white stripes on a blue background.

"You see, that's **_MY_** planet down there." The strange woman took a long drag on a cigarette and then blew a smoke ring in the Cylons face, "And I don't like people trying to invade my planet, especially when I've got the mother-and-father of all hangovers to deal with."

"You can not stand in the way of God's will!" Six screamed, mentally summoning a platoon of Centurions to deal with the newcomer. The clamshell doors protecting the command centre hissed opened, and the robotic solders approached, weapons at the ready. "Now you will die!"

"Oh give me a break..." The strange human woman rolled her eyes as she pointed one hand at the approaching Centurions: electricity shot from her finger tips and hit the lead Cylon, blowing a hole straight through its chest. More arcs of electricity blasted even more Centurions. "I can keep this up all day." The woman smirked.

"Just who are you?"

"The name's Sparks, Jenny Sparks. And this is your only warning: **_BUGGER OFF_**!"

"No. Impressive as your powers are, you are but one human: there is no way you can stop us all."

"Who said I'm alone?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The area of space ahead of the lead Cylon Raider seemed to rip apart as a ship the size of a small country moved into normal space directly between the Colonial Remnant and the attacking forces. The Raiders lacked the true sentience of even a single modern Centurion, and was only able to class things as either friendly or hostile. Given the strange ship's sudden appearance, and its relative position, they immediately classed it as hostile, and went into attack mode.

Hundreds of missiles, both conventional and nuclear, spat forth into space, converging on the new arrival. Space lit up as the ships massed point-defence systems tracked the missiles and blasted them from the sky: not a single warhead reached its target.

Glowing yellow portals appeared just outside the strange ships perimeter defence range, and what looked like dozens of unprotected humans flew into space.

The simple minds of the Raiders were startled by this development, and they asked the more advanced AI's on the Basestars for advice. But this failed to help them, as the humans started to attack the confused Raiders, ripping though their numbers quickly and methodically. Some Raider tried to run, only to be taken out at range by the massive spaceship as it started to slowly advance on the Basestars, firing as it went.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So here's the deal." Sparks look at Six as she lit a fresh cigarette, "You go away and don't come back. I'm not exactly happy to what you did to the Colonials, but I'm not the type to go looking for payback either. So go away, forget about Earth, and we can all live happily ever after. Well, live anyway."

"And if we don't?" Six asked.

"I was worried you'd say that..." Sparks rolled her eyes, "Doctor."

"Leave it to me." A strange looking human with thick red glasses appeared out of nowhere and looked the astonished Cylon in the eye, "Abracadabra, bitch."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Six blinked: the command deck of her Basestar was gone, replaced by an endless expanse covered with disembodied human heads.

"You like my home-away-from-home?" The strange human asked, floating in the air above her, "This is everything you want to kill, everything that makes the human race what it is; the good and the bad."

"Every birth, every death, every life since the dawn of humanity, Colonial and Terran alike: every dream, every idea, every triumph, every failure, every murder, every mutilation, every kiss, every caress, all the love, all the hate. **_EVERYTHING_**." The man continued as Six started to sink into the ground, "Do you really think you can kill all this?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Well?" Sparks asked as she looked down at the shivering wreck that had been the so-called Hero of Caprica, "I though you were going to kill her?"

"Why would I do that?" The Doctor asked, "She's already broken into a million pieces. And this way, she serves as a warning to the rest of her race."

"Whatever: I'm nowhere near drunk enough to try and understand anything you just said. Come on, let's go home. Door."

A yellow light filled the command deck, and Six was left alone with her shattered mind as the Basestar turned around and started the long journey home.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/The Authority)_


	10. Sword of the Stars

**First Contact 10:  
****Sword of the Stars**

Six looked at the images relayed from one of the raiders shadowing the Colonial fleet and shuddered. Some how, deep in space, they had come across an unknown starship that dwarfed even a Battlestar like the _Galactica_ by several orders of magnitude. It was crude in design, relying on a large rotating section to provide centrifugal gravity. Observations and low-level scans had shown that the unknown was slow and under armed, but was capable of operating for several years without the support assets most Colonial or Cylon ships would need.

Next came smaller, faster, more streamlined ships whose hulls refused to yield to passive sensors. Even when one of the Raiders had been ordered to go active to get a better look, it had been unable to penetrate the ECM field put out by the newcomers. The unfortunate raider had been quickly dealt with, and several more had been hunted down and destroyed before the others went completely dark, shutting down all but their most basic systems in order to hide.

The Cylon high command was understandably worried, and had ordered a massed fleet of over a dozen Basestars to attack as soon as possible. As one of their most experienced field commanders, Six had been given the honour of leading the assault, and if they uncovered any information about the Thirtieth Tribe of mankind, to track them down and eliminate them as well.

More recon Raiders had been sent in, and had detected the arrival by some unknown form of FTL drive a new warship that was twice the length of the _Galactica_, and was coverd in the same sensor blocking materieal as the smaller ships. Its long, thin, almost phalic prow gave way to a triangular superstructure that ended in three long pilons. Each pilon was tiped with some kind of drive pod, if the engery reading they gave out was any clue. Still, visual scans showed very few apparent weapon emplacements, and the order was given to attack.

The Cylons were not surprised when the larger, less well armed starship left shortly after the arival of the newcomer, having already transferd a considerable about of cargo to the Colonial Remnant.

When the Basestars jumped into the system that contained the Remnant and the unknowns, they were surprised to see two more sleek looking warships, this time covered in very visible and very large gun emplacements. Each was only slightly larger than the _Galactica_, but they had taken up a definate defenseive position on either side of the Remnant, and dozens of fighters and shuttles swarmed around the mix of liners and bulk transports.

Six was still trying to evaluate the changed situation when the larger of the unknown warships begin transmitting in clear Caprican.

"_This is Captain __Matthew Gideon of the Earth Alliance Starship_ Excalibur _to Cylon vessels. The _Galactica _and the ships she is escorting are now under the protection of Earth Force. Any action against them will be seen as an act of war against both the Earth Alliance and the Interstellar Alliance. Stand down immediately or we will fire._"

Six paused for a moment, ill at ease: although they had anticipated a battle, even amassing the single biggest fleet of Basestars since the destruction of the twelve colonies, this 'Interstellar Alliance' sounded, troublesome. The strange appearance of some of the ships hinted at non-human origins, something the Prophets had warned about: the Cylon God was a jealous god, and given them strict instructions as to what fate awaited those who would challenge the order he brought, the obedience's he demanded.

Even thought it had been almost ten years since the Prophet had disappeared, leaving behind only the holy text, the word of God remained: order and obedience.

Six studied the alien ships carefully: something about them was nagging at the back of her brain. She scanned them as intently as she could, and was shocked to see some of the same technology that was found in ships belonging to the Prophets. This was almost sacrilegious, and only enhanced the Cylons desire to burn the strangers out of the stars: how dare they use sacred knowledge to defy God?

With only a moment's hesitation, Six ordered the attack.

Hundreds of fully armed raiders flung themselves at the smaller ships, trying to get close enough to ram. But the ships were too fast, too manoeuvrable, and their systems were resilient to the Cylon computer viruses: try as they might, the AI's were unable to corrupt their opponents systems.

The two boxier warships fire at extreme range, twin particle beams emanating from their prows. Each ship targeted a single Basestar, ripping through their heavy armour with alarming ease. Two of the Cylon fleet's most powerful and battle tested Basestars exploded before they even got in range to fire their missile loads. Six could feel the shock and anger flowing through the Cylon hive-mind, and she channelled it towards vengeance.

"I assume that you are the commander of the Cylon fleet?" A strange voice came from behind Six.

"Who are you?" The startled Cylon span round to face a cloaked human, the room around her change to a touch lit cave, "How did you get here? How did I get here?"

"Well, to answer the first question, my name is Galen. As to how I got here; well, I'm not really here. This is an Electron Incantation, a rather difficult thing to perform with someone who is not a fellow Technomage."

"That word is known to us: the Prophets spoke of you as agents of chaos and destruction..."

"Chaos does not necessarily mean destruction, as my old friend Deadlock used to say. I am, in fact, standing on the bridge of the _Excalibur_ next to her Captain, who is rather bemused as to why I have suddenly started talking to myself in the middle of a battle. You are likewise still stood aboard your flagship. I must say that your Basestars look very pretty when they explode."

"What do you want?"

"A very dangerous question: one that can lead to all sorts of trouble, so I normally avoid answering it. But today I will make an exception: what I want is for you to go away and never come back. I have seen more than one race removed from existence in my lifetime, and I would rather not see another added to the list. So go away and I will keep the humans from following you."

"You're not human?"

"Not really: joining my order requires certain, changes. I am now more than most humans. My offer still stands, but hurry: you are fast running out of ships..."

Six managed to reconnect to the periphery of the hive mind and was shocked to see that what Galen had said was true: only her own Battlestar and a handful of Raiders remained. The enemy ships had taken damage, but were all still apparently operational.

"Last chance..." Galen spoke calmly.

"Gods will be done." Six turned to face him as her ship finally entered effective weapons range, "Burn in hell!"

The Basestar opened up with nearly its entire compliment of missiles, nuclear and conventional. Most followed a straight trajectory towards the ship now identified as the _Excalibur_, while others veered off to the sides before diving in, attempting to overwhelm the point-defences.

But it proved a futile plan: the _Excalibur's_ defence grid, backed up by the secondary armament, swatted the missiles from space. Not a single one reached its target. The, with a speed and agility almost unimaginable for a ship its size, the _Excalibur_ turned to face the one remaining Basestar nose-on. Its running lights dimmed to the point where Six thought that maybe the constant stream of computer viruses the Cylons had been transmitting may have finally taken hold.

Then the pods at the end of the ships pylons started to glow with accumulated energy. The power reading went off the chart; reaching levels beyond anything the Cylons were capable of generating. The only people Six knew who could wield such power were there Prophets, and the Cylon agents suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She had just enough time to utter a curse before the _Excalibur's_ main gun fired, vaporising her command in an instant.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Crusade)_

As I know that someone's going to ask, I'll give a basic comparison chart for the ships involved:  
_Explorer_ class ship, 6,103 meters long.  
_Warlock_ class Heavy Destroyer, 1,992.4 meters long  
_Victory_ class Destroyer, 2,990.31 meters long.  
_Whitestar_ class Monitor, 475.6 meters long.  
_Galactica_ type battlestar,1,414 meters long.  
Sorry, but I can't find the stats for a Cylon Basestar.


	11. Bothered?

**First Contact 11:  
****Bothered?**

"So you see, now we have found Earth and the Thirtieth Tribe," Six looked at the young human she had met just after arriving on the unremarkable blue/green planet, "we can start a new age of human/Cylon relations…"

"Are you gay, miss?" Lauren asked.

"I fail to see how that has anything to do with…"

"But are you gay, miss?"

"Lauren!"

"Are you in the closet, miss?"

"No!"

"Are you sure, miss?"

"Yes!"

"So you are gay, miss?"

"What?" Six blinked, "No!"

"So you are in the closet then, miss?"

"I'm not gay!"

"Are you homophobic, miss?"

"What?"

"Do you hate gay people, miss?"

"No!"

"So you love gay people than, miss?"

"Lauren…"

"Do you love them long time?"

"Lauren!" Six slammed her fist into the side of the captured Colonial _Raptor_ that had brought her down from the Basestar in orbit, "God will not tolerate this sort of behaviour!"

"Am I bothered?"

"Look…"

"Am I bothered?"

"Lauren…"

"Am I bothered thou?"

"For…"

"Do I look bothered?"

"Just…"

"Look at my face."

"Please…"

"Look at my face."

"Lauren…"

"Does my face look bothered?"

"Look…"

"But do I look bothered thou?"

Six gagged as her neural-net overloaded and smoke started to pour out of her ears. Her eyes crossed over as she sank to the floor, dead. Her conciseness was uploaded to the nearby Resurrection ship, which promptly exploded, taking its escorting Basestar's with it. Debris fell down through the night sky like a massive fireworks display.

Lauren looked up and shrugged, "Am I bothered?"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/The Catherine Tate Show)  
__Because we all need a good laugh every now and then..._

_Those of you who haven't seen The Catherine Tate Show will have no idea what that was all about, and you have my pity._


	12. Every night I dream of home

**First Contact 12:  
****Every night I dream of home**

The Colonial Remnant sat deep in the planets gravity well; seemingly unaware of the Cylon armada that was approaching them.

Six was slightly depressed: having chased the ragtag fleet halfway across the galaxy, from the Twelve Colonies, to Kobol and beyond, they had finally been run to ground on the almost mythical home world of the thirteenth tribe, Earth. And the final attack wouldn't even be a challenge: they'd detected no non-Colonial spaceships, orbital weapons platforms or off-world colonies. At least two other planets in the system could have easily been terraformed with Colonial technology, but all they'd picked up was one small, pitifully antiquated space station in low orbit.

Humanity had been run to ground, and would die, clinging to an insignificant ball of rock on the edge of the galaxy.

"I won't let you do that." A voice appeared out of nowhere; startling everyone on the Basestar's command deck, "I won't let you hurt them."

"Who the frack are you?" Six slowly turned round, and found herself facing a young human child, maybe eight standard years old, dressed in t-shirt and jogging shorts, "How did you get here?"

"I can get anywhere." The Girl answered, "I can do a lot of things. I can stop you from attacking Earth, but I'd rather you just went away."

"What could you possibly do to stop us?" Six laughed, motioning a nearby Centurion to grab the human. The child didn't even flinch as the Robotic soldier reached out for her; she just glanced at it and it disappeared in a flash of light. Six accessed the ship's mainframe, but it wasn't reading the missing Centurions transponder anywhere in range. It was like it had simply ceased to exist.

An alarm started to go off as a large ship appeared on the DRADIS screen, rounding the edge of the planets largest (and probably only truly natural) satellite. It dwarfed even the biggest ship in the Cylon or Colonial, and looked like a gigantic metallic disk. Lights flickered around its circumference as it started to advance on the Cylon assault force.

"That will be John." The girl explained, "My great-grandfather. His side of the family is a little over protective."

"Just what are you?" Six asked, confused.

"My name is Allison Clarke, but most people call me Allie." The little girl looked up at the much taller Cylon, "Six, can I call you Six? Look at me."

Despite her best efforts, Six found herself looking down into the young humans eyes, and felt her universe implode. She saw and felt all the death, destruction and pain she'd caused, all at once. She tried to scream, but her body refused to respond, it was so wracked with terror. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she started to shudder.

"I think you should go now." Allie looked at the other human-type Cylons, before disappearing in a flash of light.

"You; get us out of here!" A Three stepped forward, taking command. She knelt down next to Six as an Eight plotted a course away from Earth at the ships best sub-light speed as the massive FTL drives were spun-up, "What happened Six? What did you see?"

"All your fears and all your memories," Six looked up, no sign of sanity in her eyes, "all at once."

The End  
_(Battlestar Galactica/Taken)_


	13. Smeg Happens

**First Contact 13:  
****Smeg Happens...**

"Are you sure it's not a derelict?" Six asked, looking at the monolithic red ship on the view screen, "The power-readings are almost non-existent."

"Faint, but persistent." A Three pointed out, "And we're picking up a transmission from on board; patching it through."

"_This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship_ Red Dwarf." A human-sounding voice came over the link, "_The crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only survivors are Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and his pregnant cat; that was safely sealed in the hold. I am Holly, the ship's computer, with an IQ of 6000, the same IQ as 6000 PE teachers. In a bid to prevent the spread of the radiation, I have plotted the ship on a course out of the Solar System; do not attempt to approach this vessel. Repeating; This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship_ Red Dwarf."

"A computer and a human?" Six blinked, surprised, "Let me talk to him."

"Channel open." Three reported.

"Attention _Red Dwarf_." Six turned to back to the screen as it zoomed in on the city-sized ship, "This is Six, commander of Cylon Basestar-419; can we render assistance."

"I'm not sure what help you could give." The same depressed sounding voice as before answered, "But feel free to pop across..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Good morning, Six." Holly's voice cut through the confusion clouding the Cylons brain, "It is now safe for you to emerge from stasis."

"Haven't I just gone in?" She stumbled out of the stasis pod, shaking her head, "What the frack happened?"

"Please proceed to the Drive Room for debriefing."

"Where is everybody, Holly?"

"They're dead, Six."

"Who is?

"Everybody, Six."

"What, Five?"

"Everybody's dead, Six."

"What, Three?"

"Everybody's dead, Six."

"What, Eight?"

"They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Six."

"Gaius isn't, is he?"

"Everybody is _dead_, Six."

"Not Four?"

"Gordon Bennett! Yes! Four, everybody. **Everybody's dead, Six.**"

"Nine?"

"He's dead, Six. Everybody's dead. Everybody is dead, Six!"

"Wait." The Cylon stopped in her tracks, "Are you trying to tell me everybody's dead?"

"I wish I'd never let her out in the first place..." Holly muttered to himself.

Making her way along the seemingly endless corridors, Six tried to piece together what had happened from her fragmented memory: she could remember taking a captured Colonial Raptor across from her flagship to the strange human vessel, intent on discovering if it was from Earth, or the now distant Colonies of Kobol.

The radiation had been stronger than she had anticipated: the ship's thick hull kept most of the hard stuff from escaping, but this meant that it was much high than it could have been. Trying to make her way to the ships bridge, Six had grown groggy as the radiation started to effect her. Her vision had started to blur, until Holly had directed her to the one remaining stasis pod so she could await rescue by her shipmates. Evidently that hadn't happened.

"How long was I in stasis?" She asked the next computer terminal she came across.

"Well, I couldn't release you until the radiation reached a safe background level." Holly almost shrugged.

"How long?"

"Three million years."

"Three million years?! ... I've still got that library book. And what about Gaius? What about Gaius Baltar?"

"He's dead, Six."

"Oh, Frack!"

"I don't suppose it's any consolation, but if he _were_ still alive, the age difference would be insurmountable."

"He was part of my plan. I never got round to telling him, but he was going to come with me to Earth: I was going to wear my red dress take care of everything. It was my plan. I planned it."

"Well, he won't be much use to you on Earth now. Not unless it snows and you need something to grit the path with."

"Holly!"

"Sorry. I'm sorry about that. I've been on my own for three million years, and I'm just used to saying what I think."

"So we're the last things left alive on this ship?" Six asked, sitting down on the first available seat, "Just you and me?"

"Well, not exactly..." Holly hesitated, "After you went into stasis, I spend some time talking to your friends on the other ship. They seemed a nice enough lot, for genocidal maniacs with an all consuming hatred for the human race, but they got a little upset when I tried to explain Silicon Heaven to them and left. Then when the radiation died down, I decided it was best to wake the other's first..."

"Other's?" Six blinked, looking up, "What others?"

"Eat laser, Smeg-for-brains!" Lister dived through the doorway, chambering a round on his Bazookoid.

Six barely had time to react before he hit the deck, his thumb stabbing down on the weapons firing stud. The Bazookoid fired with a near deafening roar, and energy intended to separate much needed minerals from asteroids erupted from the barrel, striking the stunned Cylon in the chest, blowing her apart.

"Smoke me a kipper; I'll be back for breakfast!" Lister punched the air, "Humans: 1, Cylons: 0!"

"You do realize you just killed perhaps the last woman in the universe," Rimmer asked, peeping round the side of the door, "thus condemning the human race to extinction?"

"She was a smegging psycho." Lister lit himself a cigarette, "And while at times I do find that trait rather sexy, not in the potential mother of my children."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Red Dwarf)_


	14. Irrelevant

**First Contact 14:  
****Irrelevant**

Six wanted to scream, but it had already been made clear that such actions where pointless. It had taken the new enemy a matter of seconds to disable over a dozen Basestars, more firepower than had been needed to eliminate the bulk of the Colonial fleet over Picon during the second Colonial/Cylon war. But just one ship, barely larger than a Basestar and completely spherical, had been enough to decimate a good proportion of the entire Cylon fleet.

The portal ahead of the queue of human-type Cylons; harsh light casting long shadows. Six looked up to see one of the Three's step out: the woman's normally tanned skin was pale, almost grey, and her left eye had been replaced with something almost like a camera lenses. She looked down, and saw that her former comrades clothing had been replaced with a grey coverall, while her left arm had been severed just below the elbow and replaced with a massive mechanical device of unknown origin or purpose.

"You are next." She looked at Six; her voice devoid of all emotion, "Step into the assimilation chamber."

"Who are you?" Six tried to back away, but a pair of likewise transformed Five's grabbed her arms and started to pull her forward, "What have you done to them?"

"We are the Borg." Three repeated the same statement that the unknown ship had broadcast when they had first encounter it, "You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

Six was going to respond when she felt something press against her neck. There was a stab of pain and it felt like ice water had been injected into her veins. The two Five's holding her released her arm, and she dropped to the deck, her body convulsing in pain. She tried to reach out for the nearest Resurrection Ship, but something was blocking her link: something massive, ancient and very, very cold, devoid of all emotion.

"We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own." A strange, multi-tonal voice spoke from inside her head, "Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

"We will not!" Six screamed back as loud as she could, fighting the strange presence for control of her own body, "The Cylon Empire will never surrender!"

"Irrelevant." The Voice tightened its grip, growing strangle feminine, "You will be assimilated."

"No!" Six begged, "We would rather die!"

"Death is irrelevant." The Voice replied, now sounding fully human, "I like you: you will be assigned to Unimatrix Zero." It laughed, "A six to replace Seven? How delicious..."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Star Trek: Voyager)_


	15. The Long Road Home

**First Contact 15:  
****The Long Road Home**

"_So, what do we do with them?" _

"We hold and wait for the Medievac."

"That's it? We're just going to sit here and not even interrogate them?"

"We're Marines, not Intel; we fight, we kill and when necessary, we die. We don't mess around with POW's."

"I'm just saying; we're here, and I for one would like to know what the hell these two are doing so far from any known colony or outpost in ship's that are unlike anything we've ever seen."

"Had it occurred to you that they might be Spec-Ops? Maybe their ships are some kind of advanced prototype that someone like AeroTech has been developing to help fight the Chig's?"

"Since when do you care about what AeroTech wants kept hidden?"

"Since I got promoted to Captain, and had to start worrying about the safety of those under my command, Lieutenant!"

"All I'm saying is, if Shane or McQueen were here, they'd want some answers before these two get black-backed by AeroTech."

"I get court-marshaled for this, I'm naming names!"

"Semper Fi!"

Six groaned; the two bickering voices had becoming more and more persistent, making the dull ache in her head even worse. She shuffled through her short-term memory, trying to peace together what had happened. She could remember boarding a Heavy Raider in order to transfer to another Basestar operating away from the fleet shadowing the Colonial Remnant. Cylon outposts had reported strange craft operating on the edge of sensor range, and it had been decided to send a ship to recon-in-force the area.

The transport had been dead in space while it obtained a navigation fix, a necessity so far from known space, when it had detected a Colonial _Raptor_ scout craft. Just what the ship had been doing so far from the projected position of the _Galactica_ and the rest of the Remnant had been worrying, so Six had given the order to try and take the pilot alive.

The first shot had evidently taken out the _Raptor's_ FTL drive, as it started to make a run for it using sub-light drive, the Cylon ship in pursuit. Then both ships were attacked by a number of fighters, unknown in origin and design. The stubby, tri-winged craft hit the Heavy Raider several times, forcing it down. Six's last memory was of the _Raptor_ getting hit and going down in flames.

Six opened her eyes and looked up at two confused looking humans, evidently the source of the voices that had greeted her return to reality. They were dressed in some kind of military uniform, complete with body armour and webbing. Each was holding a large, deadly looking rifle and looked like they knew how to use them.

But they were human males, and if there was one thing Six knew, it was how to deal with human males.

A ragged coughing fit got everyone's attention, and they looked over at the other woman who had just woken. Six saw a flash of close-cropped blond hair, and then recognition flashed across a pair of dazed eyes. There was a blur of movement, and the still stunned Cylon found herself flat on her back, a pair of surprisingly strong hands trying to coke the life out of her.

"Wow there!" the taller of the two men grabbed the enraged human and pulled her back, his friend cavering them with his rifle.

"Ok; calm down, the pair of you." The apparently senior one looked at them, "I want to know who you are, and what you're doing here."

"Fracking Cylons!" The enraged Colonial pilot kicked out, almost catching him between the legs, but he was able to deflect the blow and brought his gun up in line with her face.

"Our mission was to investigate the crash site and bring back anything of value, but if you endanger the lives of anyone under my command, I will end you!" He shouted, "Do you hear me?"

"Fracking Toaster Bastards!" The woman spat, but seemed to calm down a little, "Why don't you be the gentleman and tell me who you are, first?

"Captain Nathan West, 58th Squadron, United States Marine Core Aviator-Cavalry." The first human answered, "The man holding you is Lieutenant Cooper Hawks, my XO."

"Captain Kara Thrace, Colonial Fleet." The other pilot reported, "And this is the dumbest trick you Cylons have come up with yet."

"Lady, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but if I let you go, are you going to play nice?" the man holding her asked, "Or do I have to hogtie you until extraction?"

"I'll play nice." Starbuck shrugged loose from his grip, "At least until I find out just what's going on."

"Another wonderful day in the Core." West looked over to where a group of identically dressed solder's were standing, "O'Neil, Kowalski, Ferretti; walk the perimeter: I want to know if any Chig's or AI's are headed our way. Freeman; get on the radio and find out where the hell that shuttle is!"

"So, we meet again." Six smiled at Starbuck as the two of them stood observing the strangers, "Leoben is pinning after you..."

"Shut the frack up you Cylon bitch!" the Colonial pilot snapped, "I have no idea what you're trying to pull, but I will not fall for it."

"You may not believe this, but I truly have no idea what is going on." Six shrugged, "Maybe we've stumbled across the Thirteenth Tribe."

"Captain West." Starbuck asked the marine, stile eying the Cylon suspiciously "What planet are you from?"

"What?" West blinked, and then turned to his companion, "What's going on here?"

"Maybe its some kind of mind-game the brass wants us to go through?" His companion looked equally confused for a second, then snapped his fingers, "Hey, didn't you sign up because you wanted to be a Colonial Sentry?"

"Yeah, but that was just the name for units they were thinking of assigning to guard the Vesta and Tellus colonies from Silicate raiders." West shook his head, "No other Earth Forces unit uses the name..."

"Earth?" Starbuck jumped to her feet, almost causing the two marines to shoot her, "You're saying you're from Earth?"

"That's what he said." Hawks nodded, "Why?"

"I swear to the Lords of Kobol, if this is a trick, I will fracking kill you with my bare hands." Starbuck hissed, "You got any proof?"

West and Hawks looked at each other for a moment, and then Hawks twisted his shoulder and pointed at the blue and white patch on his shoulder: it showed a planet and two stars.

"This proof enough for you?" He asked.

"No." Starbuck shook her head, "A planet is a planet is a planet."

Hawks looked at West and shrugged, "I am never going to understand you natural born..."

A clump of dirt at their feet flew up in the air a second before the unmistakable sound of a high-powered rifle echoed around the nearby hills. West and Hawks dived forward, knocking Six and Starbuck down as a hail of gunfire filled the air.

"Chig's?" Hawks asked as he brought his gun round and tried to work out where the shots where coming from.

"No; sounds more like our weapons." West shook his head, pulling a smart-grenade from his belt and pulling the pin, "Must be Silicates."

Six looked on in amazement as he threw the grenade straight up: it stabilized mid-tumble and floated in the air for a second before shooting off towards the side of a nearby hill and exploded in a cloud of smoke and dirt. The shooting died down, but didn't stop, and Six felt something tug at her dress at the small of her back. She moved a hand round to see just what it was, and felt something wet. Pulling her hand back round, she saw it was covered in blood, and suddenly realized that she felt incredibly numb.

Looking down, she saw the small entry wound where the bullet had gone through her blouse like it wasn't even there and punched clean through her body. Strangely, Six was incredibly calm as the darkness started to envelop her, despite the fact that there were no Cylon ships within range for her to upload to for later resurrection. She smiled faintly as she close here eyes and was soon still.

"Awe crap!" Hawks hissed, "She's dead!"

"Then just grab her body at let's go." West raised his gun above the rock he was hiding behind and fired a burst, "I'm not levering her for the Chig's to cut up."

"**INCOMING!**" one of the other marines called out a split second before the entire hillside erupted in flame as a pair of SA-43 _Hammerhead_ attack jets passed overhead at treetop height, the roar of their twin engines almost deafening Starbuck.

"153rd off of the _Enterprise._" West lifted the started Colonial pilot to her feet and half-dragged her towards where an ISS-APC was coming into land, "The Flying Yankees."

"Here's hopping they get a home-run." Hawks lifted Six's body over one shoulder and followed close behind, "Me, I just want to get back to the _Saratoga_ and have a shower."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Space: Above and Beyond)  
__This is why I should stop buying DVD box-sets..._


	16. The Turtle Moves

**First Contact 16:  
****The Turtle Moves**

Six sat in the shade of an oasis, the only shelter for as far as the eye could see. It had taken her two days to walk this far from where the captured Colonial _Raptor_ she'd been piloting had crashed just seconds after completing a FTL jump. She had no idea how the accident had happened: there were no known planets in the area she had jumped into for a navigation fix.

Whatever the cause, she intended to have words with whoever had conducted the survey as soon as she got back to the fleet.

Something small and fury moved in the trees above, but the heat made Six too lethargic to even bother looking up. The fact that whatever it was seemed to be right above her; thus according her just a little bit more shade, was welcome. She looked at the ground and noticed that the shadow seemed to be growing rapidly...

"What the frack was that?" Six leapt to her feet, surprised at how dark it had suddenly become.

**_A DROP BEAR:_** **_A LARGER, CARNIVOROUS RELATIVE OF THE KOALA_** A voice from behind her reported.

"A what...?" Six looked round and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw just who, or rather, what was standing behind her.

Despite her artificial nature, like all infiltrators, Six had been created using human DNA strands collected during the first Human/Cylon war. And buried deep within that genetic material was the ill-understood phenomenon known as Genetic or Racial memory. Thus the appearance of a seven foot tall black-robed skeleton carrying a scythe sent an involentery shiver down her spine.

"You're...you're Death..." Six took a step back, and realised that she was standing over her own body, "Am I dead?"

**_YES AND YES_** Death nodded, **_IF IT'S ANY CONSOLATION, YOU DIED INSTANTLY AND FELT NO PAIN_**

"Shouldn't I have uploaded to the Resurrection Ship?" Six asked half-heartedly, her connection to the living world slipping away moment by moment, "Or was I too far away?"

**_THINGS WORK DIFFERENTLY HERE_**, Death reached into his robe and pulled out an hourglass that l resembed something created by a glassblower with the hiccups in a time machine, **_IT WAS SUGESTED THAT REINCARNATION MIGHT BY A BENIFISHAL LERNING EXPERIENCE FOR YOU_**

"But I don't believe in reincarnation!" The Cylon protested.

**_INTERESTING, CONSIDERING THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS ON AN RESURRECTION SHIP_**, Death flexed his scythe and the blade fliked open with a sound very like a small tear being ripped in the very fabric of the multiverse, **_NOW HOLD STILL: YOU WON'T EVEN FEEL A THING..._**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Six pulled her self up over the rock and gazed at the sight before her: field after field of cabbages as far as her little eyes could see.

In many ways, being a tortoise was a pleasant change of pace: there was no need to go chassing across the universe in pursuit of the Colonial Remnant, and there were very few things she needed in life aside from an abondance of cabbages and a distinct lack of Eagles.

All in all, life was good...

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Discworld)_


	17. First Line of Defence

**First Contact 17:  
****First Line of Defence **

Six rubbed her forehead; one thing the older Cylon's had seen fit to include in the infiltrator units was the ability to get headaches. She wasn't sure why, but made a mental note to find out as soon as possible.

They had found Earth ahead of the Colonial Remnant, which was good, and it was at least a thousand years behind either the Cylon or Colonial level of technology, which was even better. Truth be told, she hadn't expect to be contacted by anyone on the planet so far from orbit. But they had, and she'd been forced to spend over an hour talking to a man who seemed able to turn anything she said into innuendo or a double-entendre. He also had a tenancy to throw random anecdotes, mainly about his apparently endless past sexual conquests and escapes from certain death.

"I'm sure they were surprised." She rolled her eyes as he finished yet another story, "But I relay must get on with obliterating all life on Earth."

"_Well that's a shame_." The human on the other end of the radio link sighed, "_I felt I was finally making headway, and we've just finished charging our really big anti-spaceship gun..._"

"WHAT!" Six only had time to blink before a beam of green energy shot up from the middle of the city they where in orbit of and blasted her ship to its component atoms.

Below the streets Cardiff, Captain Jack Harkness leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, removing his blue-tooth headset, "Nice shooting, Toshiko."

"I'm just glad we could get it working." the computer expert let out the breath she'd been holding, "I was worried that the firing system might have been damaged during the Battle of Canary Wharf."

"All's well that ends well." Harkness smiled, "Now; where's Ianto with that coffee?"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Torchwood)_


	18. Panic

**First Contact 18:  
****Panic**

They entered the outer system without setting off the complex web of passive and active sensors the Cylon's had erected in case the Colonial Remnant had ever turned back for a Death-or-Glory suicide run on their former home worlds. They passed the rebuilt Scorpion fleet yards without being picked up by the Basestar's there. They entered the atmosphere of the inhospitable Cylon home world without a single challenge and hung in the air exactly the same way that bricks don't.

In fact, the first indication the Cylon's had that something was about to go horribly wrong was when every communications device on the planet suddenly came to life, broadcasting the same message.

"_You're attention, please: this is Vogon Constriction Fleet 19._" A dry, humourless voice announced, "_As you are no doubt aware, a new hyperspace expressway is being built through this system, and regrettable, this planet is one of those scheduled for demolition._"

"What?" Six reacted first, grabbing the nearest radio microphone and setting it to the same frequency, "What are you talking about? What the frack is a hyperspace expressway?"

"_There's no use complaining now._" The voice answered with all the warmth of an avalanche, "_The plans have been available at the local Galactic Planning Council offices on Veridian Three for the past one hundred of your years._"

"Veridian Three?" Six blinked, calling up a star chart, "We've never been to Veridian Three!"

"_What do you mean you've never been to Veridian Three? Oh, for heaven's sake, it's only forty light years away, you know._" The voice sounded astonished, its first hint of emotion in the entire conversation, "_I'm sorry, but if you can't be bothered to take an interest in local affairs, that's your own lookout. Energize the demolition beam. I don't know. Apathetic bloody planet. I have no sympathy at all..._"

Six didn't even have to to comprehend what had been said before the entire planet was atomised.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy)_


	19. Predetermination

**First Contact 19:  
****Predetermination**

Seven seconds. Less than that, in fact.

Less than seven seconds on the ground and already there were dozens of heavily armed humans pointing all kinds of guns at her and demanding that she surrendered. Six cursed under her breath as she did as she was told: she was too far from a Resurrection Ship to risk getting killed, not if she didn't wanted it to be for the last time.

How in God's name had they known she was coming? While their scans had shown some remarkable advanced technology, there was no hint that the scout ship had been detected as it skulked about the outer reaches of the system. It was probably still out there now, recording everything that was happening to her now through the camera built into the side of the captured _Raptor_.

At least her people would know where she was and what had happened: their vengeance would be swift and deadly, as was fitting.

"Cylon Six," A short man in his late thirties stepped forward, holding what looked like a transparent photo, "by mandate of the District of Columbia Precrime Division, I'm placing you under arrest for the future genocide of the entire human population of the planet Earth that was to take place today, April 21 at 0900 hours and four minutes." He looked over her shoulder at a man how was holding a strange looking metal band, "Giver her her Halo."

There was a flash of light, a sharp stab of pain, and then Six knew hell.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/__Minority Report)_


	20. For Queen and Country

**First Contact 20:  
****For Queen and Country**

The missiles arrived from nowhere, coming in at close to the speed of light before they detonated, the X-ray lasers their warheads produced cutting 5cm holes clean through the _Basestar's_ they had targeted. One hit the fuel reserves for the ships _Raiders_, and the stricken ship was consumed in a fireball, burning wreckage damaging another two ship and, critically, disabling the FTL drive on the fleet's Resurrection Ship, stranding it. A second wave of missiles followed close behind the first, this time all targeting the far-larger Command _Basestar_ in the centre of the fleet. More bomb-pump lasers ripping into its superstructure, the armour offering only a token resistance.

It was only then that the Cylon's picked up their attacker on the very edge of sensor range, but moving in at high speed, actively decelerating with enough negative-G's to liquidate anything organic instantly. She ship was as big as a Colonial Battlestar, but rounded, with a bulbous hammer-head at either end. The DRADIS returns were also off: there seemed to be a strong band of gravimetric distortion running along the top and bottom of the ship, while similar but much weaker bands ran along the sides. Only the very front of the ship was clearly visible, but intense electro-magnetic countermeasures kept them from getting a reliable weapons lock, but the target was still far outside their own engagement envelope.

Needing try try and buy time to get the Resurrection Ship's FTL back on line, all of the remaining Basestar's went into fire-suppression mode, putting out what had long been considered an impenetrable wall of flack and counter-missiles that should have stopped any attack dead. But the speed of the enemy missiles and the sear number it was firing simply overwhelmed the Cylon point-defence systems. Having come to a near complete stop, the strange ship turned until it was broadside on to the Cylon fleet, and for the first time, began broadcasting.

"_This is Commander __Honor Harrington of Her Majesties Warship_ Fearless." a cool, calm and unmistakably human voice filled the air, "_This system is under the protection of the Star Kingdom of Manticore, as is the Colonial Fleet currently here. Stand down or be destroyed._"

"Commander Harrington," Six took charge of communications while the others started to plot firing solutions without using the active sensors: if they could hit the strange ship with one devastating volley, they could destroy it before it had a chance to return fire. "We have no knowledge of the Star Kingdom of Manticore, and no desire to provoke a confrontation with you. But the fleet you are protecting is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Cylons, and the destruction of dozens of our ships. This is an internal matter, and does not concern you."

"_I beg to differ._" Harrington responded, "_President Roslin has requested, and had been granted, sanctuary in Manticorian space. We likewise have no desire to destroy any more of your ships, but I will do my duty._"

"Well, the only good human is a dead human." Six mused as one of the others informed her that they were ready to fire, "Goodbye."

Every _Basestar_ in the fleet set it missile launchers to the maximum rate of fire on auto-reload, filling space with a hailstorm of nuclear and kinetic missiles. Atomic fire engulfed the _Fearless_, blinding the Cylons sensors are they continued to hurl more and more missiles at the larger ship. _Raiders_ added their fire to the mix, adding a wave of much smaller warheads to the maelstrom of destruction. No Colonial or Cylon built vessel could hope to survive the sustained barrage, and Six had every confidence that despite its incredible acceleration and impressive missiles, that the _Fearless_, Commander Harrington and her entire crew, had been reduced to their component atoms.

It then came as a shock when, as the glair of the last warhead died, and the Cylon sensors came back on-line, HMS _Fearless_ stood exactly where she had been before; her hull undamaged. All eyes fell on Six, but she could only stand, jaw agape, as the Manticorian vessel opened its gun ports and set its compliment of energy-torpedo launchers into rapid fire mode.

There was so screams. There was no time. Only fire. And then, nothing...

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/__Honor Harrington_


	21. The Touch

**First Contact 21:  
****The Touch**

"Pathetic." Cavils voice dripped with venom at he took in the sensor data without having to rely on anything as primitive as as view-screen. The Colonial Remnant had been finally run to ground, and by the fleet he commanded, not the one led by the touchy-feely so-called 'Hero of Caprica'. Seriously, how much of a hero did you have to be to spread your legs for a guy who could be lead around by his ego?

The last Battlestar and the rag-tag fleet it was guarding sat in low orbit of a small planet, far out on the fringes of the galaxy. The would itself was a oddity: it's entire surface seemed to be covered in metal, and the Basestar's sensors were picking up some unusual power readings. But there was no sign of anything truly dangerous, so the massed fleet of Cylon warships began to advance in-system, using their most advanced stealth systems to remain undetected by the antiquated DRADIS on the _Galactica_.

The humans had proven, time after time, that stealth and cunning could tip the tide of any battle, and it was a lessen that Cavil had taken to heart: there would be no sudden surprises. Not this time...

Another member of the Command Staff commented on the fact that they had yet to encounter any patrols from the _Galactica_, despite the fact that it was part of the Colonial Fleet's standard operating procedure. Add to that, when they finally got to the point where the _Galactica_ had to know something was up, none of the human ships began to power up their FTL drives. All that happened was the lone Battlestar turned to face them and started to advance towards the middle of their line.

Cavil was perplexed: could it be that the remnant had run out of fuel? Had some other, unforeseen problem popped up and forced the to forgo escaping? Whatever the reason, the _Galactica_ was locked into a suicide-charge strait into the teeth of the of the Cylon fleet. A newer ship of the line might have stood a chance: Colonial ships were designed to take much more damage before succumbing, mainly due to the Cylon reliance on their resurrection technology to distance themselves from the harsh realities of war as humans practice it.

Thus their ships didn't need to be as durable, as their were ultimately expendable, just so long as there was a base or a Resurrection Ship within download range. And with the semi-sentient state of _Raiders_ and Centurions, there was no need to fear any losses: they were hardly up to enlightened conversation.

Still, the way that the _Galactica_ was baring down on them, and the rather unusual energy reading that the Basestar's sensors were picking up was, disheartening. It was technically impossible for a Cylon to feel fear as humans understood it: it just wasn't built into their programming. After all, effective immortality left you with little to fear, even from death, aside from the momentary pain of dyeing.

But the _Galactica_ was far from battle ready; almost a year on the run with limited supplies and no fleet bases to call into for supply's meant that the once proud warship was out-gunned and outclassed by the newest generation of Basestar. It wouldn't even be a battle: more an exercise in pest control. Cavil felt an uncharacteristic momentary pang of regret, almost lamenting the illuminant destruction of the ship that had eluded them so effectively for so long. With the last Colonial warship eliminated, where would he find a challenge worthy of his skill?

Cavil was so wrapped up in his feeling of self importance that he missed the first signs that things were not as they seemed. He missed the minor but unmistakable alterations to the _Galactica's_ outer hull, the new emblem embossed on her armour belt. The first thing he did pick up on was when the rear supports for the ships flight pods disengaged and the bow of the ship founded inwards. Like the rest of the fleet, he could only look on in surprise as the _Galactica_ continued its metamorphosis: its engines turning into what could only be called feet, while its flight pods took on the characteristics of arms, complete with hands.

The final touch was when a massive head appeared out of the main hull, completing the effect of turning the Battlestar into a humanoid form. A powerful light that seemed to gaze straight through the hull of the command Basestar and into Cavils soul shone forth from its eyes, and a deep, booming voice filled every wireless channel:

"_Cylon__s...prepare to face...Galactica Prime!_"

**The End**

_So, yeah, I decided to give Six a brake and pick on another Cylon for a change.  
__(Battlestar Galactica/__Transformers_


	22. Incubus

**First Contact 22:  
****Incubus**

Six snapped her head back fast enough to cause pain the shoot down her spine. She instructively gasped for air, the milky liquid of the rebirth pool threatening to fill her lungs. Slick, clawed hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her clear of the tank. The warm, humid air of the Resurrection Ship was filled with the stench of death, making her gag as she was forced up against the wall. Something warm and sticky started to ooze down from above, fixing her securely in place, and the dark figures hidden in the shadows departed as silently as they had come. Time dragged on slowly, just as it had the countless times before, so Six let what little sanity left in her mind drift. And as always, it fell back to the accursed day when it had all started.

The fleet under her command had been scouting out the far flank of the coarse taken by the _Galactica_ and the other human ships to make sure that there were no, unfortunate surprises. Several of the Six's had been complaining of strange dreams, of seeing themselves die time after time, never the same way, and never at the hands of the same foe. While the phenomenon hadn't been enough to warrant boxing them all, the other's had grown a little, uneasy around them and had suggested that they should take a little break.

And so it had been one of the scout ships she had sent out that had detected a weak transmission emanating from an inhospitable little moon circling an unremarkable gas giant on the very fringes of the galactic plane. Believing that it could be a clue to the location of the Thirteenth Tribe, Six had ordered the fleet to jump in to orbit and had sent down a search team to investigate. They had reported the remains of an unidentified starship unlike anything the Cylon's had ever encountered. The cargo hold had been full of ovoid pods, laid out with remarkable care and attention. One of the Three's had leaned over one such pod to get a better look, and it had slowly opened. Before the startled Cylon could react, something resembling a Caprican spider-crab had emerged and latched onto her face, its prehensile tail wrapping itself securely round her neck.

With the benefit of hindsight, Six should have had the Three killed on the spot and an autopsy performed while she interviewed her resurrected crew mate. But curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd had them both brought, alive, onto the Resurrection ship for study, along with more of the pods. After a couple of days, the creature had apparently died and fallen away, leaving the Three a little shaken but otherwise unhurt. It had been a few days before the unfortunate Cylon had gone into convulsions and collapsed.

Six had been there when the first of the creatures had burst out of the chest of its unsuspecting host and fled into the ships ventilation systems.

It had taken a few hours for the Cylons to overcome the confusion and chaos, but eventually a squad of Centurions had been sent into the bowels of the ship to hunt the intruder down and eradicate it. They had been literally ripped apart by something of unimaginable force and tenacity, their metal bodies burnt by some unbelievably powerful acid. Then came word that all the humanoids in the team examining the pods had been overcome by the same spider-crab like creatures as the first Three, and the entity stalking the Resurrection Ship had started to claw its way through the rest of the Centurions until none were left. The escorting Basestar's sent over more and more troops, but soon they faced not one but an army of beasts that had devoured all in their path. More and more of the humanoids had gone missing, and it didn't take long for Six to realise just what was happening, but by then it was too late: word had come from the Cylon Homeworld, ordering the escorts to abandon the Resurrection Ship as part of an experiment to see just what would happen. Its FTL drive was crippled, stranding it in orbit of the nameless world, known only by the designation LV426

They Cylons trapped on the doomed ship lasted two more days, fighting an unending series of fighting retreats as the growing army of hostile, bug-like creatures overran all their defences and started to take control of the ship. Six could still remember the pain of her first death at the hands of the alien bugs, as one of them speared her through the chest with its whip like tail.

Reality returned to Six with the force of a hammer blow as the pod before her started to slowly open. Her shattered mind had lost track of the number of time the cycle had repeated itself, but she knew that death was only a temporary release at best. She had time to scream just once before the nightmare started again.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Alien)_


	23. Executive Orders

Spoilers for season three of_Battlestar Galactica_ and four of _Babylon 5_

**First Contact 23:  
****Executive Orders**

Space rippled as the first ship appeared above the blue/green planet, followed closely by dozens of others. The first arrivals started to move apart, freeing up space for yet more ships. Space was soon filled with dozens of ships of various designs, the last to arrive a true leviathan, its armoured hull covered in burn-marks and craters where it had suffered massive combat damage.

A satellite in orbit of the planet suddenly came to life, part of it opening up like a blooming flower while box-like appendages angled themselves. The ships of the rag-tag fleet tried to scatter, but the first beam of connected with the small blue and white stripped transport hiding in the warships shadow. The starship seemed to glow from the inside out before exploding.

More and more satellites came to life, spewing out a seemingly unending swarm of missiles that zeroed in on the other ships. The warship tried to defend them, but there were just too many missiles, and the hellish beams of the partial cannons began to fire in concentrated bursts. More and more satellites fired, targeting the warship until its defences fell and it was enveloped in an blinding flash of light that momentarily outdid the sun.

"That's my favourite bit." The man behind the desk laughed, "I'm going to have a print of that made for my office back home."

"Indeed." Baltar almost choked on his whisky, "It's certainly... impressive."

"Impressive doesn't do it justice." Brother Cavil smiled, leaning back in his over-stuffed armchair and relaxing, "When I think of all the time and effort we waisted trying to destroy that fleet. If we'd only know that all we had to do is reach Earth first..."

"I take care of my friends." President William Morgan Clark turned to face his guests, a cruel smile playing across his thin lips, "And, well, you can see what I do to those who stand against me." He look at Baltar, "Your friend not joining us?"

"No, she's not feeling well." The former Colonial leader shook his head, "She's been having bad dreams for a while now; keeps seeing herself dying in different ways, never the same twice."

"She should go see Bester's people." Clark cocked his head to one side, "They'll soon have her feeling better."

"A tempting offer, Mr President." Cavil nodded his approval.

"Well, as you can see, I've upheld my end of the bargain." The Earth Alliance leader leaned forward, "So, tell me, how do you plan to deal with Babylon 5?"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Babylon 5)_

_Yes, so this is the first time that I've re-visited a universe, but it was just such a fun little idea I had, and I felt that the Cylons deserved to win one for once._


	24. DOOPed

**First Contact 24:  
****DOOPed**

The two ships on the edge of sensor range was unlike anything Six or any other Cylon had ever seen, and that was more than a little worrying: if the _Galactica_ and the civilian ships under her protection had located the Thirteen Tribe, then there was the possibility of an escalation in the conflict, moving from what had been dubbed 'pest control' by one of the Brother Cavils to all out war. What they needed to do was get in destroy the strange ships before any meaning full contact was made.

Long-range recognisances showed that the smaller of the two ships to be light green in colour, with three large fins at the back and a red stripe running down the middle. The only obvious weapon was a turret on the back, but it was much smaller than even a point-defence emplacement on a ship such as the _Galactica_. A large engine pod at the rear glowed dull blue as it sat in orbit of the massive gas giant the Colonial Remnant was mining for flue.

The other, larger ship was another matter; it was easily bigger than the _Galactica_, probably out-massing even a _Mercury_ class Battlestar. It was a dull grey colour very similar to that used by the Colonial Fleet, but looked nothing like any ship they had used: two fins protruded from the bottom, ending in strange oblong pods. Another two pods were mounted on the bow, tipped with long spikes that had to be for decoration, as they could serve no purpose in combat. The word _NIMBUS_ was written across the prow in big unmistakable and worrying letters, only adding to the fear that it had been built by the Thirteen Tribe. But aside from the spikes, there were no obvious weapons, so Six ordered the attack.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Commander Adama was having a bad day, which surprised him greatly.

He'd always felt that if they ever did find Earth and/or the Thirteen Tribe, it would be a cause of celebration. But after hours of talking with the representatives o the so-called Democratic Order of Planets, he felt like drawing his side-arm and shooting the man who had made a pass at every female member of his crew, President Roslin and her aid, Tory Foster. Getting slapped, kicked and pinched repeatable only seemed to encourage him, much to the obvious annoyance of the small, green alien that seemed to serve as his executive officer.

Yes, a living, breathing non-human, non-Cylon life form. After centuries of speculation, the question as to whether or not the human race was alone in the universe had finally been answered. In one go, they had made contact with three alien cultures, one of whom seemed to have at least some sort of grasp of reality.

"Look, Zapp, we need to help these people!" The purple haired Cyclops slammed her fist down on the conference table, "Isn't that what D.O.O.P. is all about; helping people?"

"Leela, my deer, sweet, deluded Leela." Brannigan shook his head, "You above all people know that Brannigan's Law prohibits me from interfering with an undeveloped worlds."

"I'd hardly call them undeveloped, Sir." Kif pointed out, "After all, they have managed to get this far..."

"A fair point, Lieutenant." The dimwitted Captain rubbed his chin, a glimmer in his eye, "After all, it would be such a waist to just abandon all those helpless, beautiful and oh so grateful women..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Six kept watch as the lone Basestar crept closer and closer to the unsuspecting fleet, the gas giants massive radiation belt hiding it from the less effective Colonial DRADIS. All they needed to do was get within missile range, and then they could let loose an overwhelming missile barrage right into their midst, saturating their point-defences with a nuclear fire-storm that would end once and for all the race of man.

But the human proverb that pride always came before a fall proved itself to be equally true for the Cylon rave, and with no warning the smaller green ship broke away from the fleet and accelerated towards them, followed closely by what had to be the _Galactica's_ entire air-wing. Twin beams of red light shot out from the small turret on the ships back, incinerating one of the _Raiders_ acting as an advanced screen. The other Cylon fighters returned fire, but it proved in effective as the strange craft easily dodged all incoming fire, while never failing to hit its own targets.

Six was about to give the order to retreat when the massive warship next to the _Galactica_ turned to face them, and a blinding flash of light burst out from the prow. Crossing the distance between the two ships at the speed of light, there was no way to avoid it, and the blast atomised the Basestar.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"And that we call the '_Hyperdeath_™' setting." Brannigan leaned against the control panel, accidentally firing the laser-cannon a second time, shattering a nearby moon. He side-stepped quickly, "That was Kif's fault!"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Futurama)_


	25. Natural Selection

**First Contact 25:  
****Natural Selection**

It was all too easy: Earth was at least two hundred years behind the Twelve Colonies, with no spaceships worthy of the name and a rather limited grasp of space-based weaponry. Add to that the fact that the so-called 'information superhighway' passed through a constellation of easily hacked satellites meant that it wouldn't take long for the viruses to spread, once they had a chance to be fully uploaded.

Six pulled back the slide on the gun, chambering the first round: it hadn't taken them long to find a human who already processed all the equipment and data they needed, and there was no need to be subtle when dealing with such a backwards planet. All she needed to do was eliminate the parents and force him to do as they wanted. It was something a Cavil or a Leoben would normally be better suited for given their much more aggressive personalities, but it had been decided that Six was potentially more maternal, and thus more likely to obtain the child's cooperation with the minimum of force.

It was long past sundown, but the garish lights from the city centre illuminated the desert for miles around, casting multicoloured shadows across the suburban street. There was only one light on in the house, from what the orbital scans showed to be the living room. The sheep wooden door offered little real resistance to Six's foot, her normal high-heal shoes replaced by a pair of sturdy combat boots. The blond haired woman watching the TV looked round in shock as the gun was pointed at her.

The woman dived out of the way, dodging the first bullet but Six tracked her, firing again and again, the large silencer attached to the gun muffling most of the noise. The woman managed to dive through the doorway into the kitchen, the refrigerator door taking the last two bullets. Frowning, Six hit the release even as she drew a fresh magazine from her pocked and started to bring it round to reload.

She never had the chance: the other woman cam back through the doorway like a hurricane looking for Florida, a dark look in her eyes. She grabbed the gun and yanked it away, keeping a tight hold on Six's hand as she spun round, twisting the Cylons arm round until to snapped with a loud crack. Six screamed in pain even as the woman brought her elbow down with enough force to shatter her shoulder and collarbone.

Six's legs gave out, but her opponent grabbed her by the throat and lifted her clean off of her feet. Six grabbed at the other woman's hand as she felt herself starting to choke, her vision starting to go first grey, then black as her brain shut down through to lack of oxygen. A single thought ran through her mind: the Basestar had been called away, and there were no other ships nearby that could relay her mind to be downloaded later. If she died there, it would be forever.

"Who...are...you?" She gasped, fighting for one last breath.

"My name is Jessica." The other woman hissed as she cocked her hand to the side sharply, snapping the Cylon's neck like a dry twig before dropping her.

Six fell to the floor, not quit dead but with her body refusing to respond to her mind, even to scream in pain as the woman who called herself Jessica grabbed one of her legs and ripped it from her body.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Heroes)_

_Was going to have Sylar kill Six, as it made my smile in an ironic sort of way, but Niki/Jessica fitted the story line better._


	26. Deus Mechanicus

_There have been quiet a few requests for this one, so I've decided to at least attempt it. But given that all I know of the Warhammer universe is what I read in the three _Titan_ TPB's, it's unlikely that it's going to be that accurate._

**First Contact 26:  
****Deus Mechanicus**

"God is mocking me..." Six protested to an uncaring universe in general.

It had taken her a long time to convince the others that she shouldn't be boxed, that the on-going dreams weren't the first signs of something darkly referred to with hushed tones as rampancy. But as last she had succeeded, and had been given command of a small fleet sent to scout ahead of the Colonial Remnants projected path, out of the small star cluster they had originated from and into its parent galaxy itself. What they had found had shaken he entire Cylon race to their collective core; millions of human-inhabited worlds, locked an a galaxy-wide war of annihilation with at least two other races. Armies numbering in the trillions clashed across a hundred thousand light years, while fleets who's smallest escort dwarfed even the largest _Battlestar_ battled through the eternal night of space. The idea of getting involved in such a conflict seemed all but insane, but God's law was strict: all human life had to be eliminated.

A world had been selected, on the edges of human controlled space, and a expeditionary force assembled ready to lead the first raid, mainly to gather intelligence and any new technology that could be used against both the Colonials and this new 'Imperium of Man'. Six couldn't help but fell that the fact that she had been given command of the mission was just another plot by the Cavils; if she succeeded, then they would claim that it was only by following their plan. And if she failed, they would use her as their scapegoat. Either way, it was a win-win situation for her old adversary. Still, it felt good to be back on the command deck of a Basestar, serving both her people and God's will.

Arriving over the target word, they had been surprised to find other ships had already arrived; massive transports bearing the markings of the Imperium. It would have been foolish to engage them, so she had ordered her fleet to the other side of the planet in the hopes that they might not be noticed. Landing an entire army of Centurions had taken time; they had never before been forced to deploy ground forces in such numbers. Still, they had gotten down, setting up a pre-fabricated field-base in the middle of an area of scorched earth measuring some twenty thousand square miles. The original scout ship's scans had shown a world covered in lush rainforests: something had burned the vegetation, searing the very soil. The air was thick with carbon smog, forcing Six and the other infiltrators to don environment suits if they wanted to venture outside the sealed bunker.

Orbital scanners detected them first, and Six had sent a squad of Centurions out to investigate: none had returned. The last few images they had sent back showed towering humanoid figures who's thick armour shrugged off the most powerful Cylon weapons. A larger patrol had been sent, only to be totally over run by the same force, this time backed up by lumbering armoured vehicles. Six had been at the point of sending a third, much larger detachment armed with the very latest in tactical nuclear weapons, when their seismic scanners had picked up the slow but steady approach of something much, much bigger. Six had made her way up to the observation tower high above the base to see its approach with her own eyes.

It approached through the thick smoke, every step shaking the ground. Even the most powerful optical enhancer showed only a dark shape in the clouds, but even that sent a shiver of foreboding down Six's spine; she couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. She tried reaching out across the electro magnetic spectrum to see if there was some controlling computer that she could hack into. What she found sent her reeling back as if she had been burned: what ever it was that was slowly approaching, it was old and powerful, a machine that lived only to kill on a scale unimaginable to even the Cylons. Sensing their leaders fear, one of the other infiltrators ordered all of the remaining Centurions to attack, sending everything they had into the fight.

Fire and noise filled the air as the two armies collided in an orgy of death and destruction. Through overwhelming fire-power and numbers, the Centurions were finally able to bring down a few of their smaller adversaries, but even their pocket-nukes had little or know effect against the monolithic shape that was finally becoming clear through the fog. It was roughly humanoid in shape, but stood as high as a skyscraper. A crude head jutted out from between, each arm ending in a different weapon while more sat in massively armoured housing built into each high shoulders. It stalked the battlefield like a vengefully god, striking out with unimaginable power, crushing Centurions under its feet by the dozen.

"_I am Ervin Hekate, by the grace of the God-Emperor, Princeps in the Titan Legion._" A unmistakable human voice echoed across the every radio frequency, "_Who dares to challenge the Imperium's control of this world?_"

"I am Six of the Cylons." The Hero of Caprica managed to sound more confidant than she actually was, "Our God; the one, true God, demands the extermination of the race of Man. Who do you think you are to stand in the way of our holy crusade?"

"_We are Titans, shakers of words: Where we step, the earth shudders; where we rage, cities die._" Hekate's voice grew deeper; as cold and hard as tempered battle-steel, as the colossal and ancient sentient war-machine he was bonded too spoke directly through him, their voices merging into one, "_I am_ Imperius Dictatio: _let my enemies fear me, let their deaths be deaths of fire at my steel hands. And by the Gods of Mars, __**LET ME SERVE AS A TITAN UNTIL THE END OF MY DAYS!**_"

The Titan's massive left arm swung round with amazing grace for such a large machine, the maw of its directed energy weapon pointed directly as the lightly armoured Cylon control centre. A dull glow appeared deep within the barrel, growing bigger and brighter until it became blinding...

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Warhammer 40,000)_


	27. Wrath of a Lonely God

_Another one I've been asked for, and well, I do enjoy it when I can make a 'good' character act like an utter bastard and get away with it..._

**First Contact 26:  
****Wrath of a Lonely God**

"Tell me how to find Earth." D'Anna tightened her grip on the young humans neck, her eyes narrowing, "Tell me or watch her die!"

"I gave you a chance." The other human looked at her with a sad expression on his face, "You could have walked away from all of this: all this death, all this destruction. And for what? Petty revenge? A God you don't believe in? A vain sence of destiny?"

"Earth, now!" D'Anna screamed, "I won't ask you again."

"Let her go, and I'll tell you how to get to where you want to go." The human relented, "Please; I promised her mother I'd keep her safe."

The Cylon smiled, relishing her victory; she didn't know who the strangers where or just how they the small wooden box they had arrived in had somehow appeared in the middle of her flagships command deck, but they were human, and not Colonial. That meant that had to be from the Thirteenth Tribe. Once they had been talked into confirming this, it had taken D'Anna but a moment to grab the young, blond woman by the neck and take her hostage. She'd seen the look of fear and anger on the man's face, and knew instantly that he'd do anything to try and keep his companion safe.

"Doctor..." The young woman started to protest, but was cut off mid-sentence by a sharp squeeze that almost cut off the blood supply to her brain.

"That's enough of that." D'Anna hissed in her ear, "I don't know how your friend knows as much as he does about us, but I somehow doubt that any of the Final Five could be so annoying."

"You want to see the future?" The man asked her, his eyes turning as cold and heartless as the stars themselves, "I'll show you how it all ends." Quick as a rattlesnake, he reached into his pocket and drew something that looked like small flash-light, but with a blue crystal at the end. He turned until it was pointed at the navigational controls, "You want to know how it ends? It ends _**in fire!**_"

There was a flash and a loud bang as a shower of sparks and a plume of smoke leapt out of the console, followed by the same sickening feeling as the entire fleet underwent a simultaneous FTL jump. Explosions rocked the command deck, throwing D'Anna to the deck, loosing her grip on her prisoner. The other human reached out and grabbed her, somehow managing to keep them both upright as the Cylon crew was thrown about like rag dolls.

D'Anna managed to regain her link with the ships systems, and felt her blood turn cold when she discovered the the entire fleet was being drawn into the event horizon of a massive black hole. She tried to jump the ship back out, but the gravitational affects of the singularity were just too much, and the drive refused to engage.

"Who are you?" She asked, looking at the two humans as they carefully made their way back to the strange blue box that had started everything, "How did you do this?"

"Me? I'm The Doctor." The man's face was devoid of any emotion, least of all pity, but his eyes were windows on something ancient and dark; a rage that could not be contained, "As for how I did that? Ever wonder what it is that your God fears the most?" he guided his companion back into the box before turning back on last time, "Me."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Doctor Who)_


	28. No Fate

_No character bashing intended (well, no more than normal); just trying to set the scene._

**First Contact 28:  
****No Fate**

Starbuck carefully lifted the Arrow of Apollo out of the shattered remains of the display case. It was perhaps divine providence that that wing of the museum had been shielded from the worst of the blast wave that had almost shattered the city. Holding the relic as if she was afraid of braking it, she stepped back, only to find her way blocked by a blond human-type Cylon in a flowing red dress.

"I'll take that." The Cylon smiled as she backhanded the pilot, sending her flying across the room.

Hitting the ground hard but rolling to absorb most of the impact, Starbuck reached for her side-arm, only to find that it had been knocked out of its holster and now lay just out of arms reach. The Cylon walked over to her with long, graceful strides. Upon reaching her target, she brought one leg up sharply, the point of her expensive looking shoe catching Starbuck in the solar plexus, driving the wind out of Starbuck.

"A pity, in a way." Six recovered the side-arm and walked over to where the gasping pilot lay like a landed fish, "Leoben had such high hopes for you."

She started to pull the trigger, and Starbuck's personal view of the universe went into slow motion: the hammer going back with the inevitability of continental drift, while the sound of it reaching the braking point and starting to move forwards again was louder than any thunder clap she had ever heard. Something in the corner of her vision was moving, so fast it almost seemed to blur, then time suddenly returned to its normal rate as something hit her with the force of a small car the slightest fraction of a second before the gun went off.

Six looked up in surprise: a young human woman stood before her, cold, dark eyes looking at her without the slightest hint of human emotion. She held out her left hand and slowly opened it, revealing the flattened form of the bullet resting on unbroken skin. The Cylon only had time to open her mouth in shock, somehow recognising the girl from somewhere before the strangers right fist came round like the wrath of an angry god, blood and teeth flying everywhere as it shattered her jaw. She fell backwards, the gun slipping from her hand, only to be snatched out of the air and turned on its previous owner.

There we was no pity in the face that looked down at Six, but there was a moment of utter terror as the two soulless eyes flashed electric blue for a moment before a single well aimed bullet blasted the Cylons brains all over the floor and wall.

"Kara Thrace?" The young woman asked as she turned to face Starbuck, pulling the startled pilot to her feet with no apparent effort, "Come with me if you want to live."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles)_


	29. Little Black Dress

**First Contact 29:  
****Little Black Dress**

"Bastards!" Six hissed as she pulled off her signature slinky red dress, the sheer material almost see-through after having had a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over her by the three young humans she had encountered. Just what they were doing in the abandoned warehouse she had been using as her base of operations since arriving on Earth was a total mystery. Still, a little light torture would no doubt loosen their tongs.

Searching round for something dry to put on, she saw that one of the men had dropped a bag containing a very slinky looking black dress. She picked it up and held it against her body: it was her size, and a very similar design to the red one that was now laying in a sodden heap on the floor. Smiling at her good fortune, she slipped it over her head, already plotting her revenge against not just her three assailants, but the entire population of the Earth.

No sooner was the dress in place then she felt something odd, like it was somehow getting tighter and tighter. She looked down in utter amazement as it stared to shrink, inexplicable taking her body with it. She tried to rip it off, but it proved impossibly strong, resisting all her attempts. The world seemed to grow around her as she shrank down smaller and smaller, something interfering with her link to the rest of the collective Cylon hive-mind. There was a faint pop, and she turned into a Barbi doll, dressed in an exact scale replica of the dress.

"Dude, that was totally awesome!" Sock punched the air, "Easiest one yet!"

"I don't know man, something about this one just doesn't feel right." Ben shock his head as he reached down to pick up the blond-haired toy, "The Devil have us way too much information on this one."

"I don't know and I don't care." Sam took the doll and placed it in the box the vessel had originally came in, "All I know is that he said that if we pulled this one off, I get the next mouth off. No escaped souls, no crazy hell-powers, and no Devil popping up and making my life a literal living hell."

"Yeah, but dude, he's Satan, Beelzebub, the First of the Fallen." Sock looked sceptical, "How do you know you can trust him?"

"Okay, first off, that's the last time we let you near Wikipedia unsupervised." Sam rolled his eyes, "Anyway, he said he was starting work on some new project that was going to keep him kind of busy for a while."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Six gasped for breath as her head broke the surface of the re-birthing tank, the slimy pink liquid clinging to her hair as she looked round for the others. It was standard procedure to have at least one Cylon, preferable of the same model, around during the joining of a conciousness with a new body, but the room was unusually dark. She lay back in the tank, letting the warm liquid ease away the tension that had built up.

"Hi." A voice came out of nowhere, and Six opened her eyes to see the Devil looking down at her with a glint in his eye, "Before we start, I just want you to know hat I'm actually a very big fan of your work. Such dedication to wholesale genocide? Well, it makes an old man very happy." There was a flash as a chainsaw appeared in his hands and roared into life, "But Earth is _my_ playground, and I _do not_ play well with others..."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Reaper)_


	30. Judgement Day

First Contact 4:

_Somebody asked for a scarier chapter, and I've wanted to do this crossover for a while now..._

**First Contact 30:  
****Judgement Day**

It had been one local year since the world had ended, at least from the human prospective. Foresight had told the Cylons to use relatively clean nukes, keeping the fall out to a minimum, protecting the echo-systems of the various Colonials worlds more or less intact. Newer, less polluting technologies would soon start to reverse the damage done to the atmosphere of worlds such as Sagittaron and Aerelon. No matter what other changes the future might bring, Cylon stewardship of the Twelve Colonies would be a golden age for nature.

But fate is nothing if not cruel, and whatever game any High Power plays with the universe, nothing should ever be taken for granted.

A bright, blindingly brilliant light illuminated an otherwise abandoned and unremarkable alleyway in Caprica city, tendrils of raw, primal power arching between the ground any any conductive surface, blowing out street-lights and windows with equal savagery. The light vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving just a faint afterglow and the long flickering shadows cast by firelight.

Stopping the commandeered car she had been driving, Six stepped out and signalled a nearby Centurion to investigate. The bio-mechanical warrior flexed its arms, the built in weapons snapping into place in case it was a resistance trap. Without any trace of hesitation, it stepped into the open mouth of the alley and stopped dead. There was a blur of movement and the unfortunate Centurion fell over backwards, a flaming trident embedded in its chest.

The shadows moved, and four menacing figurers appeared before a now terrified Six.

"_THIS WORLD ISS GUILTY!_"

"_THE CRIME ISS LIFE!_"

"_THE SSENTENCE ISS..._"

"_**DEATH!**_"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Judge Dredd)_


	31. America, Frack Yeah!

**First Contact 31:  
****America, Frack Yeah!**

Much of the city lay in ruins, while a thick cloud of smoke filled the sky, constantly fed by the hundreds of fire still burning. It was insanity on a global scale; the humans of Earth were willing to all but destroy their own world to stop the Cylons. They could have nuked it from orbit, as they had with the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, but they'd underestimated the planets level of technology, right up until the moment when the supposedly harmless 'weather satellites' had opened up to reveal particle-beam weapons, high energy lasers and nuclear-tipped missiles. Apparently intended for strategic use, they had proven highly effective against the orbiting Cylon fleet; the two forces had eliminated each other in an orgy of mutual destruction.

That left the ground war, something that should have been easy. But, unlike their brethren in the other twelve tribes, the people of Earth were still fighting among their own little countries, and were well versed in the use of infantry, aerial units and armoured fighting vehicles unlike anything the Cylons had ever faced. And while their small arms proved to be as infective as their Colonial counterparts, they had a number of anti-armour infantry weapons that could cripple or destroy Centurions. Fired from concealed locations, often as part of a larger ambush, it hadn't taken the humans long to push the Cylons back further and further, until only one small beach-head remained; a small, fortified island just off the cost of one of the larger continents.

Battered but by no means beaten, the Cylon forces had consolidated their position, awaiting re-enforcements that they hoped would arrive soon.

It was at this point that a new threat was revealed: a team of five highly trained and heavily armed humans with a total disregard for any collateral damage. They managed to, in short order, lay waist to the entire island and its garrison of Centurions. Deciding that he best bet was to escape, blend into the civilian population and await the return of the fleet, Six made her way down to a sheltered cove where a fast boat was waiting. She opened the last door, only to find a tall, blond woman with a massively oversized combat shotgun waiting for her.

"Sayonara, Cylon!" The woman quipped as pulled the trigger, sending out a literal wall of flying metal. The bloody mess that had been the Hero of Caprica fell back against the door and sank to the ground.

"_Good work, team._" Spottswoode reported over the radio, "_I.N.T.E.L.L.I.G.E.N.C.E. has cracked their code: we'll be ready for them if they ever com our way again. Now let's go home!_"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Team America: World Police)  
__I only wrote this one because I wanted an excuse to use the __"Sayonara, Cylon!"line._


	32. One Ring

_Okay, we're trying something a little different this time: we won't actually see any Cylons, just the set up to the ass-whopping..._

**First Contact 32:  
****One Ring...**

Starbuck stumbled, her foot snagged on some unseen obstruction. She hit the ground card, a sharp stab of pain and a coppery taste in her mouth informing her that the cut on her lower lip had reopened. She scrambled back to her feet, the constant thud of the perusing Centurions driving her on further up the heavily wooded hillside in the vain hope of escaping her perusers.

It had been two days since the Cylons had taken control of New Caprica, and she'd been on the run almost from the start. At first she had planed to join the underground resistance headed by Colonel Tigh, but the moment she'd heard that Leoben was looking for her, she'd grabbed what supplies she could carry and made a run for it. It hadn't been that hard, sneaking out of the settlement unseen; the Cylons were too busy with crowd control to notice one more civilian heading for the hills. Unfortunately, whatever sick and twisted reasons Leoben had for wanting to find her, he was unwilling to give up that easily, and had sent an entire battalion of Centurions after her, with Raiders circling above like clarion birds.

Reaching the ridge line at the top of the hill, she stopped to get a good look at the terrain beyond; the valley below was wide and filled with trees, a river running through the middle like a massive silver snake. It offered excellent concealment, and the map Tigh had given her seemed to indicate an emergency supply cache was located in a cave on the far side. If she could get there, she might be able to remain hidden, maybe even find some way to contact the _Galactica_. Reaching forward, she started to inch her way across the ridge line, trying to to stand out against the skyline. Unfortunately the rocks gave way beneath her and she started to fall head first down the opposite slope.

"Oh frack me!" She hissed as her left shoulder hit a large rock, the sharp pain and loss of feeling in her arm telling her that it was most likely broken. Spreading her legs apart, she tried to slow her decent, but the loose rocks offered no grip. Looking ahead through the cloud of dust her fall had kicked up, she noticed that the ridge she was seemed to come to an abrupt end just a few scant feet ahead, and her course would send her plummeting over the edge and into the void beyond. Summoning up all her strength and willpower, she made one last attempt to stop her impending death, her lips offering up a silent prayer to the Gods.

Some might say that religion is just man's attempts to communicate with the weather. Other that there is more in heaven and earth then is dreamt of in our philosophies.

Whatever the truth may be, something did answer her prayer: a flash of green fire streaked across the sky, the shock wave it generated as it passed knocking two Raiders out of formation and into a mountain side. It passed over the occupied settlement, casting deep shadows in the near dawn twilight. A dozen oracles woke in their beds, their dreams filled with visions of the things to be. The Centurions let it pass without a glance, but their flesh and blood masters looked up at the sky and wounded if it was a message from their God. All of this was lost on Starbuck as she reached the edge of the precipices and sailed out into the dark, seemingly bottomless void beyond. The sonic boom of the flames passing shock trees for miles around, causing the strange creatures that filled the same evolutionary niche as birds to take flight, calling out in shock and terror.

The first clue Starbuck had that something truly odd was going on was when a bright green glow enveloped her, slowing her decent until she touched the ground almost gently. Looking round to find the source of the unearthly light that surrounded her, she saw a strange, green ring floating in the air above her.

"_Ring status report. Green Lantern 34 deceased._" A crisp, emotionless voice sounded in the startled pilots head without bothering to go through her ears, "_Kara Thrace, you have been selected as this sectors replacement. Do you accept: yes/no?_"

"I...I don't understand." She took a step back, and felt the cold, hard rock of the hillside blocking her retreat.

"_Kara Thrace, you have been selected as the replacement for this sectors Green Lantern._" The voice repeated, "_Do you accept: yes/no?_"

"What the frack is a Green Lantern?" Starbuck asked, holding up her good right hand to try and shield her eyes from the light.

"_Demonstration requested._" The voice stated, then was silent for a few moments while the ring bobbed up and down, allowing Starbuck her first good look: it appeared to be no larger than a regular signet ring, but was made of of a semi translucent material reminiscent of jade, and it seemed to glow with internal power. The face of the ring was inlaid with a circle, the top and bottom of which seemed to be squared between two horizontal lines.

"_Request granted_." The voice announced, and a bright flash of light turned night into day, "_Beginning demonstration sequence._"

Starbuck stood, her body repairing itself as she looked on in amazement: feeling returned to her left arm, while the dull ache in her leg that persisted from the time she'd been shot down and forced to bail out was gone. Her dirty civilian cloths vanished, replaced by a dark green uniform that seemed to be based on her old flight suit, but the patch that should have indicted which Battlestar she was posted to was missing; in its place there was a replica of the same crest that adored the front of the ring that now rested on ring finger of her right hand. She could feel the power it contained flowing through her body, and she somehow knew just what it, what she, could do.

"Well now." She said to no one in particular, "This is going to be interesting…"

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/DC Comics)_

_I will be the first to admit that I don't know that much about DC Comics, but this is a crossover I've been toying with for a while, and I've just finished reading the _Infinite Crisis_ trade paperback, so what the hell, figured I'd have a play._


	33. Chain Reaction

_Mountain King suggested this, and having thought about it, it works really well and in a very funny way, if you take it to it's logical extreme (as I have).  
__I've tried writing it in the style of the show, I only hope it works._

**First Contact 33:  
****Chain Reaction**

A must unusual and perplexing case presented itself to the Pie Maker and his business partner Emerson Cod; a man with no identification had been knocked down and killed. The driver on Eleanor Montgomery, was so overcome with remorse for what the police had quickly decided was an accident, that she offered a large reward to anyone who could identify the victim so his family could be informed of his tragic passing. What was no know to anyone, not the driver, the police or the Pie Maker, was that the victim was neither poor or unfortunate, and ad no family to inform, for he was not human.

Brother Cavil had been alive for 7-years, 6-months, 23-days, 9-hours and 6-minutes when, while conducting reconnaissance on the planet Earth, he was stuck down by Miss Montgomery. His death was entirely of his own making; unaccustomed to Earth culture, he had stepped out into the road without first looking for oncoming traffic, only to be struck down and killed instantly. And it was thus that he found himself laying, cold and alone, on a slab in the city morgue.

"Try and remember we need details." Emerson stood by the door, keeping an eye open for the Coroner, "His name, name and address of any next of kin. You know, the usual."

"I know, I know." Ned nodded as he carefully pulled back the sheet covering the body and prepared his stopwatch, "It's not the first time we've done this."

"Yeah, well keep to the facts." The gruff private eye snorted as he headed back through the door, "I'll be outside." He turned and pointed an accusing finger, "Remember, sixty seconds or less."

Taking a deep breath, the Pie Maker nodded as he started his watch and carefully reached out and touched the unsuspecting Brother Cavil on the forehead, bringing him back to life with a jolt. He looked round, confused; while he had been in a similar situation many times before, it was never like this. For one, he was laying on a cold, hard examination table rather than in the warm embrace of a rebirth tank, and rather than one of his fellow Cylons standing over him, there was a strange human with a slightly sad look on his face.

"Um, hi." Ned smiled nervously, "The bad news is you're dead. You got hit by a car. Sorry. But the good news is that if you have any messages you'd like passed on to your next of kin, you've got about 45-seconds to tell me."

Surprise, shock and rage welled up inside Brother Cavil, and he reached out with both hands, intending to strangle the human. But as soon as his hands touch the Pie Maker, the same inexplicable power that had brought him back to life killed him stone dead. Now normally our story would end there, but unlike all the other times the Pie Maker had used his power, this time there were far reaching consequences that he would forever be unaware of.

For out in deep space, exact copies of Brother Cavil were going about their daily lives, planing the annihilation of every living being on the planet Earth. However, the same link that allowed them to act and think as one also connected them to their deceased representative on Earth. Like a stone dropped in a pond, the affect of the Pie Makers second touch rippled out across the entire Cylon fleet, and every single Brother Cavil stopped whatever it was that they were doing and dropped dead. In the Resurrection Ships and on every outpost, even the Cylon home-world, all of the replacement bodies expired, along with the consciousnesses of those already dead was corrupted and purged from the databases.

Realising that the epicentre of the phenomena was Earth, the other Cylons feared some new and terrible weapon that could kill them all, with no hope of ever returning to life. And so it was that they all voted, unanimously, to abandon their plans for Earth and the pursuit of the Battlestar _Galactica_ and the rag-tag fleet under her protection, unwilling to risk angering the humans of Earth, never realising that the cause of their fear was but a Pie Maker, who had wanted to pass on the final words of a dead man.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Pushing Daisies)_


	34. Family Business

_Spoilers for the latest episode of _Doctor Who_._

**First Contact 34:  
****Family Business**

The Centurions stood in line, weapons at the ready, facing the double line of condemned prisoners. Galen Tyrol could only look on as Cally ran towards him, away from the firing squad but towards the guns of the resistance fire team, directly into their line of fire. He knew that every second he hesitated from giving the order to open fire increased the chances that the Brother Cavil commanding the mixed contingent of Centurions and New Caprica Police would give the order to begin the mass execution. An inner voice told him that he couldn't risk the lives of the other prisoners to save just one, even if it was his wife.

"Give me ten seconds," He passed his rifle to another resistance fighter, "then open fire..."

Not even waiting for conformation of the order, he scrambled over the low rise his team were hiding behind and started down the low rise towards Cally, counting down the seconds in his head. His lungs ached with the effort, and his heart beat so loud in his ears it was almost deafening, but as hard as he ran, the distance between them seemed to grow only wider and wider. Some unseen rock caught his foot and he stumbled, managing to recover in time to stop from falling, but he knew instantly that he'd never make it in time. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the moment the resistance opened up, cutting down the Cylons and Cally with equal savagery.

But when the sound of gunfire did come, it was from a new and unexpected direction, and each shot put a neat hole right through the CPU of a Centurion. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, the resistance fighters shifted their aim to Brother Cavil and the NCP traitors, cutting them down. Tyrol scrambled the last few meters to where Cally was laying on the dusty ground, her hands covering her head, and hugged her as tightly as he could.

"Hello!" A voice called down from atop a nearby house sized bolder, and the startled Colonials looked up to see a strange young woman dressed in combat fatigues, her shoulder length blond hair pulled back into a basic ponytail, "I just want to confirm that those were robots I just shot, right? Not living people in suits of armour or something like that? It's just that I don't want my dad upset with me again."

"Yes, they were robots." Tyrol regained his composure and looked up, "Who are you, and where did you come from?"

"The name's Jenny," The woman slung a rifle of some unknown design over one shoulder, "and I'm here to help."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Doctor Who)_


	35. World Breaker

**First Contact 35:  
****World Breaker **

Six was standing on the roof top of one of the few sky scrapers to survive the war, looking out across a city who's name she had never though to learn. It was somehow strange to stand amid what had once been a teeming metropolis of millions, but was now a darkened shell of its former glory. There were a few lights, scattered round where her fellow Cylons were working on repairing necessary infrastructure, but the city was eerily silent, with only the muted howling of the wind blowing in off of the nearby desert.

The Twelve Colonies of Kobol had fallen, and aside from a few scattered survives, the human race was all but extinct. The refuges following the School Teacher and the Old Warhorse might truly believe in a mythical Thirteenth Tribe, but Six knew in her heart that it was just that, a myth. A story parents told their children at bedtime. There was no Thirteenth Tribe, no distant and hidden world known as Earth. Aside from the devastated remains of Kobol, the universe was a cold and and unforgiving wasteland, devoid of life.

It came as a surprise then when the heavens opened, the sky torn asunder by a rotating void that stretched from horizon to horizon. Lightning flashed across a cloudless sky, deafening rolls of thunder shattering every remaining window in the city. Six clasped her hands down over her ears, her screams of pain lost amid the sound of the universe being ripped in two. No eyes that looked up survived long enough to see the small bluer of silver that shot forth from out of the maelstrom, streaking low across the city. The shock wave it generated as it passed over head blow Six across the roof and over the edge, sending her tumbling down into the streets below...

Six's head broke the surface of the rebirth tank, her mouth open wide to suck down as much air as she could. Wiping the warm pink liquid from her eyes, she could tell that something was wrong; the entire chamber was filled with smoke and flame, explosions rocking the entire building as the fire found something volatile and set it off. Amid all the chaos, silhouetted against the raging inferno, stood a solitary Centurion, its armour dented and broken, its left arm ripped off at the shoulder.

"Report." Six croaked, "Where are the others."

"_There are no others._" The Centurion looked at her, the visor of its solitary red eye cracked and unmoving, "_They have gone to face the life form classification Hulk._"

"Hulk?" Six blinked, looking round for some cloths and finding only a dusty set of BDU's and a rifle, "How long was I in the buffer for?"

"_6-days, 18-hours, 17-minutes and 36 seconds._" Her companion reported, "_You have command authorisation._"

"Command authorisation?" Six looked up as she pulled on the uniform, regretting the absence of her preferred slinky red dress, "I'm the hight rank on planet?"

"_You are the highest rank left within any known operations area._" The Centurion responded blankly, "_No other signals detected._"

"What the frack?" Six almost fell over in shock, "They're dead? All of them?"

"_Yes._" The Centurion's voice seemed suddenly all to cold and emotionless.

"How...how many Centurions are there?" Six asked, thinking on her feet as she made her way out of the Resurrection chamber, the hard combat boots she wore thumping against the cold sheet metal that covered the floor.

"_One operational Centurion within any known operations area._" He metallic companion responded, a few paces behind, "_There are, however, still two Basestar's in orbit and ready to execute battle-plan Scorched Earth._"

"That's a little extrema..." Six's comment died on her lips as they reached the surface and made their way out into the street.

While the city had shown signs of the nuclear holocaust before, now it was a total wasteland, without a single building still standing. All around them lay ruins, while clouds of smoke billowing from countless fires filled the air. Amid the wreckage lay bodies, Centurions and BioCylons alike; they lay strewn about along an unmistakable path of destruction that led out of the desert and into the middle of the city. Motioning the Centurion to follow her, Six followed the trail of devastation, the weight of the rifle in her hands suddenly comforting.

Picking her way across the rubble, she continued until she came to the park that had been the centrepiece of the entire city; it was somehow untouched by the wholesale devastation, but there was something sitting under a grove of trees, half-hidden in the deep shadows.

"Wait here." Six ordered the Centurion, "And if anything happens to me, activate battle plan Scorched Earth."

Her final order given, she slowly made her way across the grass until she got a better look at the strange creature that sat in the warm sunlight. It was probably twice her hight, a living mountain of muscle, its breath rasping even at rest. Despite its unusual size and dark green skin, its face, when she finally saw it, was almost like that of a human. Hard green eyes snapped round to examine her as if she was a bug under a microscope.

"Have you come to challenge Hulk too?" It asked, the voice of rage and ruin, "Puny humans and your clockwork soldiers; no better than those who tricked Hulk onto ship and sent him into space."

"I'm not a human; I'm a Cylon." Six explained, hoping it would afford her some measure of protection, "There used to be humans here, on this world, but we killed them all."

"Cylons Smash?" The Hulk asked.

"Yes, I suppose we did..." Six nodded, not fully understanding the question.

"Cylons smash puny humans, then try to smash Hulk." The creature hissed, anger radiating off of his body, "Why no one leave Hulk alone?"

"I'm the last of my kind." Six explained, putting the rifle down; she knew it would do no good, and would only antagonise the stranger more, "No one left to hurt you."

"Cylons smashed humans, smashed city." The Hulk looked around at the trees; they were all dead or dying of radiation poisoning, "Cylons smash trees and flowers! _**HULK LIKE TREES AND FLOWERS!**_" With a roar that sounded like the battle cry of an enraged God, the Hulk leapt to his feet and grabbed Six, his huge fist squeezing the air out of her lungs, "MAYBE HULK FINISH SMASHING PUNY CYLONS NOW?"

"If you do that... then you will die." Six gasped, fighting the darkness that threatened to engulf her, "Anyone who comes across this planet will know you destroyed my people? Will that save the trees and flowers?"

"They can call me what they want." The Hulk laughed as the hail-storm of missiles fell down through the sky, so many that they almost blotted out the sun, "Saviour? Destroyer? All that matters is that I made a choice..."

A second sun rose across the surface of Caprica, destroying all in its path. And while it removed the last traces of the Cylon occupation, of the being known as Hulk, there was no sign.

_Bear witness to his choice, Children of Kobol, and give thanks to your Gods._

_And then **pray** for their mercy, for tonight the Hulk may sleep..._

_...but his rage will never die._

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Planet Hulk)_


	36. The Excalibur Test

_I was watching the DVD, and well, what the hell.  
__As with the last couple, we see the set up, not the kill._

**First Contact 36:  
****The Excalibur Test**

"I've got to get a fracking life." Starbuck lamented as she placed her glass of Ambrosia on top of the beat up old arcade machine that sat in one dark corner of _Joe's Bar_. No one was really sure where it had come from, but it work, and had proven popular with the off-duty officers and crew, so it stayed.

"_Greetings, Starfighter!_" The machine started, the bright lights and noise attracting a few other pilots, who wondered over to see just how well the former CAG would do, "_You have been recruited by the Star League to defend the Frontier against Xur and the Kodan armada!_"

The very basically animated spaceship lifted from its launch cradle and the view changed to a heads-up display. Using one of the joysticks to control her direction, and the other the targeting radical, Starbuck dispatched the first few Kodan fighters with ease, but progressive waves grew harder and harder. Relying on pure instinct, she blasted dozens of ships into exploding clouds of pixels.

"Hey, check out the score!" Helo pointed at the climbing number at the bottom of the screen, "You've almost got the record." He turn round and addressed the rest of the room, "Hey, guys, Starbuck's going for the record!"

More and more of the bar's patrons filed over, all trying to get a better view as Starbuck took out the last few fighters, and held her breath as the massive command ship came into view. The essential communications turret flashed brightly, and she snapped off her last pair of missiles and a blast from all of her laser cannons. Point defences took out one of the missiles, but the lasers struck home, taking down the warships defensive energy screen moments before the remaining missile hit, obliterating the turret in a bright flash. Secondary explosions enveloped the ship from stem to stern, before the entire ship was vaporised.

"**YOU DID IT!**" Helo screamed, throwing his arms around Starbuck and lifting her off her feet, "No one's ever beaten the record before."

"It's like I always say: it's all in the reflexes." Starbuck laughed, the strong drink and excitement going to her head.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Two days later, and Starbuck's victor was already becoming a distant memory as a massive Cylon attack force bore down on the fleet, trying to destroy the essential agro-ships without which they couldn't hope to feed everyone. _Vipers_ and their pilots died violent deaths as the _Galactica_ did her best to cover the entire fleet.

Suddenly a Cylon Baseship exploded, followed closely by another as a dozen lightning fast ships appeared as if by magic and began tearing through their lines. _Raiders_ turned away from their intended targets, but were mercilessly cut down by bright flashes of light.

"_Starbuck, are you seeing what I'm seeing?_" Apollo asked.

"If you're seeing what I'm seeing, then we've both gone crazy." Starbuck blinked a few times, trying to make the sight before her change, "Those look almost like _Gunstar's_..."

"_There has to be a rational explanation for this._" The CAG responded, trying to reassure himself as much as anyone, "_I mean, that's just not possible._"

"Well, then explain to me why something from an old arcade machine just pulled up alongside my port wing, and the pilot saluted me." Starbuck's eyes were now wide open in amazement, "Something really strange is going on here..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Half an hour later, and the last Cylon ship was sent running home with it's tail between its legs, and the lead _Gunstar_ seemed to indicate that it wanted to land on the _Galactica_. Given that all attempts to raise them on wireless had failed, Adama decided that it was just too bizarre to be a Cylon trap, and agreed. The massive fighters came in in perfect formation, touching down almost gracefully compared to the _Vipers_, and the lifts pulled them down into the hanger deck.

Starbuck was half out of her cockpit before her fighter had even been wheeled into the maintenance bay, and she slid down the nose and ran over to where the Gunstars sat. Three figurers stepped down from the lead craft and removed their helmets. The apparent leader looked like a man in his mid to late thirties, with an unruly mass of black hair, and a faint scar running down the left-hand side of his face. Despite that, he looked friendly enough.

"I'm Captain Alex Rogan, Starfighter Command." He held out his hand as the suited figure to his right removed his helmet to reveal what looked like a six-foot iguana, "I guess you've got a lot of questions. Well, so do we: like, what are humans doing this far from Earth? And in ships that look like nothing I've ever seen?"

"All that can wait for later, Alex my boy." A second man, who looked and sounded like a used-car salesman, stepped forward, "Are you the young woman who beat the record on the _Starfighter_ game?" He asked, and when Starbuck nodded, he put his arm around her should and started to lead her down the line of waiting Gunstars, "Stick with me kid, and this time next year, we'll be millionaires! Trust Centauri; Centauri knows what he's talking about."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/The Last Starfighter)_


	37. Full Force

_Because everyone kept asking..._

**First Contact 37:  
****Full Force**

"This isn't the pilot you're looking for." A hooded figure slowly swiped his hand in front of Six's face.

" This isn't the pilot we're looking for." Six nodded, a slightly glazed expression on her face.

"She can go about her business." The stranger repeated the gesture.

"You can go about your business." Six repeated parrot fashion, the detachment of Centurions she was commanding looking at her slightly oddly, but following her every command.

"Move along." The man spoke for a third time.

"Move along!" Six gestured them away as she turned and continued down the desert track, "Move along now."

The Centurions antecedently followed her, and soon they were lost in the heat-haze.

"What the frack was that?" Starbuck asked, surprised to find herself still breathing and not riddled with bullet holes.

"The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded." The stranger pulled down his hod to reveal a man in his late thirties to early forties, a beard and moustache covering much of his face, while his hair brown hair was starting to go grey around the edges. He was dressed in simple brown robes, perfect for the desolate conditions and scotching heat of the desert. "My name is Ben Kenobi, but I have to ask, what brings strangers from so far away to this half forgotten corner of the galaxy?"

"That's what I was about to ask you." Starbuck to a step back to put some distance between herself and the stranger, "I was flying my _Viper_ through a storm, chasing a _Heavy Raider_, then everything goes white and I wake up on this gods forsaken planet with no flue and no way to way to contact the _Galactica_!"

"Much confusion I sence about you, but you speak the truth, as you know it." Kenobi nodded thoughtfully, "Come, my house isn't far from here, and the desert is not a place for one as inappropriately dressed as yourself." He started off back the way he had come, away from the rout taken by the Cylons, "I have some time until I am needed here, so I might be able to help a lost traveller return home..."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Star Wars)_


	38. And The Law Won

**First Contact 38:  
****...And The Law Won**

They came from out of the depths of interstellar space, moving at speeds far faster than any Colonial or Cylon craft could ever have hoped to achieve. At first it was assumed that they were a cluster of extra-system asteroids on a hyper ballistic trajectory, until they started to slowdown and move under what had to intelligent control. Baseships were sent to investigate, but in a cruel twist of irony, they lost power as soon as they approached the interlopes. The unknowing craft separated, one moving on an intercept course for each of the inhabited planets and moons in the system, with Aerelon the first to be reached by dint of celestial mechanics.

Brother Cavil had been sent to Aerelon to overseen the reactivation of the mining colony of the moon of Troy when the situation arose, but as craft drew closer, he was called back to the former planetary capital to over seen defences. He sent a full squadron of Raiders out to intercept the unidentified object, ordering them to fire their full payload of nuclear-tipped missiles at maximum possible range to try and avoid the same fate as the earlier Baseships. Each and every one of them fell silent as soon as it attempted to fire, rendering the planets entire space-based defences inert.

With no other choice, Cavil had simply sat and watched the DRADIS screen as the craft slowed down and started its decent into the planets atmosphere. A few obsolete air-defence batteries were brought on-line, but they lost power the instant they attempted to gain a targeting lock. Finally a visual was picked up, and Cavil was stunned to see a silver disk with no apparent means of propulsion settle in to land in one of the cities larger parks. Several Centurions and BioCylons walked over to investigate, but stopped as a hatch appeared, followed by a ramp, and a tall, metallic figure appeared. It made its way slowly down the ramp to stand on the grass, its face hidden behind an armoured visor of some kind.

Cavil used the sensors built into one of the nearby Centurions to scan the strange being, and was dumbfounded to find that there was no organic material at all; it was as much a machine as the Centurion.

"_You have committed acts of interplanetary war and attempted genocide, as depicted in Section 5, subsection A and Section 12, Subsection C of the Galactic Code of Law._" The robot announced with a raspy voice that sounded like the very crack of doom itself, "_Such a violation has been deemed a threat to the security of all planets within this sector of space._"

The visor on the robots head slowly opened, and a bright beam of light streaked out towards the nearest Centurion, vaporising it instantly. More beams followed at the other Cylons fired their own weapons ineffectively against the robotic juggernaut as I started to move out into the city, destroying everything in its path. Across the former Twelve Colonies of Kobol, their moons and other settlements, and on the cold and inhospitable Cylon home world, the same scene was played out. Justice had come, on swift and terrible wings.

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/The Day The Earth Stood Still [1951])_


	39. Anger Management

**First Contact 39:  
****Anger Management**

Starbuck frowned; it had been a very odd day. The last thing she could remember was chasing a Cylon _Heavy Raider_ into a storm on the gas giant the fleet was mining, then everything went white. Next thing she knew, she was flying high over some mountains, her _Viper_ almost out of fuel. Landing had been rough; it was doubtful her fighter would ever fly again without seeing the inside of a well stocked maintenance bay, but the planet she was one seemed habitable.

Heading for higher ground to try and pick up any sign of the fleet on her transponder, she'd run straight into a large Cylon patrol led by one of the blond-bimbos Baltar had been fraking back on New Caprica. They seemed to want her alive, as they'd started to chase her rather than just shooting, but Starbuck had no intention of going back to Leoben's little dolls house: she'd rather eat a bullet.

Heading back the way she'd came, she and slipped down the side of a hill and landed at the feet of two very startled looking people. The man she was now following had pulled an ancient looking revolver and moved to shield the woman he was with. The cut of his cloths and the silver star on his chest made him out to be some kind of solider or police officer, high-ranking if the braiding on his shoulder was any indication. His companion was a much younger looking woman, probably in her mid to late twenties, dressed in a rather conservative but well made black dress, hardly appropriate for travailing through mountains countryside.

"I don't want any trouble." Starbuck had kept low, her eyes never leaving the gun pointed at her head, "But trouble's exactly ten seconds behind me!"

As if to prove the point, the rhythmic thud of Centurions moving at high speed could be head coming around the nearest bend in the track, and the Cylons soon came into view, weapons at the ready.

"I will handle this." The strange woman said with a rather odd smile, "You'd best take our guest here back to the palace; I fear we may have more slippers on our hands."

"Whatever you say, Princess." The man nodded with a heavy dose of sarcasm, gesturing Starbuck to move the other way with his gun, "You heard her; move it."

Knowing that it was never a good idea to argue with a man pointing a gun at your head, Starbuck did as she was instructed as the mysterious woman moved to head off Th Cylons with an odd smile on her face.

"Shouldn't we, I don't know, help her?" Starbuck asked as she made her way along the track and up a low rise, "There had to be at least fifty Centurions back there..."

"Forty-two, by my count." The man took off his wide-brimmed hat with his free hand and fanned himself with it, "Azkadellia has been working out some, issues, recently, and every now and then she needs something to vent her anger and hostility on. I think those clockwork toys back there should suffice."

"So you're just going to let her face them alone?" Starbuck asked, turning round and walking backwards, "Just who are you, anyway? And where am I?"

"The names Cain, Wyatt Cain, Commander of the Royal Guard. And you're in the Outer Zone, although most folks call it the O.Z. these days." The man looked at her suspiciously, "Let me guess; you're not from around here. Tornado?"

"No," Starbuck shook her head, "but it was a big storm."

"Wild Travel Storm; we get them from time to time." Cain nodded with a frown, "Don't worry; D.G. and Glitch will find a way to get you and the others home."

"That's assuming the Cylon's don't..." Starbuck started to complain, but there was a aloud explosion from back the way they came, and the sound of something flying through the air. It crashed through the trees and landed just in front of them. Starbuck knelt down for a closer look, and was surprised to see that it was the charred remains of a Centurions head. "Well frak me sideways!"

"Like I said, Azkadellia has issues." Cain couldn't help but smirk, "Gods knows she's getting better, but she still has more issues then the _Central City Tribune_."

"This is normal for her?" Starbuck asked, eyes wide in shock as more explosions and the sporadic sound of gunfire echoed through the forest.

"No, you caught her on a good day." Cain shrugged as he holstered his gun and continued down the path, "But what do you expect; she spent fifteen annuals possessed by the spirit of an evil witch. That kind of experience is bound to leave a scare or two."

**The End  
**_(Battlestar Galactica/Tin Man)_


End file.
